


Pandora's Box

by demonicneonfishy



Series: Pandora's Box [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Art Heists, Inspired by Indiana Jones, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Mutual Pining, My two favourite things, Poisoning, Slow Burn, it's nothing super major, lots of them - Freeform, nobody dies but there is a lil hurt, unofficial title: indiana joe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicneonfishy/pseuds/demonicneonfishy
Summary: Nicky hadn't meant to fall asleep in his office. He also hadn't meant to catch someone in the act of stealing from the museum where he works.And he really, really hadn't meant to help the thief.Sometimes, though, the unexpected happens.-or, indiana jones-inspired au in which nicky looks at a gang of literal art thieves and thinks "they seem cool i'll join them". shenanigans ensue.-inspired by luminarai's amazing art, found here: https://luminarai.tumblr.com/post/632775054627913728/okay-but-like-joe-being-a-reverse-indiana-jones
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Pandora's Box [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170110
Comments: 185
Kudos: 458





	1. Prologue - The Thief

This is not how Nicky expected his evening to go.

He hadn’t _meant_ to fall asleep in his office. He was just working late. Again.

 _You say that every time, Nico,_ Quýnh would say, _you might as well live in your office._

So maybe it happens a lot. 

He’d been woken earlier by what he _thought_ were footsteps, but after a few moments of listening carefully, had decided were just a remnant of his dreams. 

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and picked up his jacket from where he’d left it draped over a chair. _Might as well go home_.

Then, he heard it again. A muffled thud, followed by what _definitely_ sounded like someone cursing under their breath.

So now he’s standing in his office at one in the morning, and he is almost certainly not alone, and he really needs to think of something to do, preferably soon.

He reaches for the gun he keeps under his desk - _you’re being paranoid, Nicky,_ Quýnh had said, but he’s glad he has it now - and makes his way to the door.

The corridor is empty. He doesn’t call out, knowing that if he does, the intruder will probably make a break for it.

 _This is absolutely ridiculous,_ he thinks, but continues to move anyway, towards the gallery the noise came from. 

“Stop!” he yells as he enters the gallery, lifting his gun and pointing it at the man currently hunched over one of the display cases. 

He doesn’t think it sounds very convincing at all, but it works. The intruder jerks back from the case like he’s been burned. “ _Shit_ ,” he mutters.

“Step away from the case,” Nicky says, because he’s not quite sure what else to say. 

_Please don’t be armed_.

The intruder raises his hands in a slow circle to face Nicky. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“It looks like you’re stealing.”

The intruder tilts his head in thought, then shrugs. “Okay, you’ve got me there.”

He’s wearing all black, with a fedora on his head and what looks like a tightly coiled length of rope at his side. Nicky can’t quite make out his features in the dark.

“Though what I _don’t_ understand,” the intruder continues, “is why you’re still here. It’s what, one am? Everyone should have left the building by now. You sleep in your office or something?”

“That’s not important.” Something about this man is making him nervous. He’s too confident.

He’s not scared of Nicky at all, despite that fact that he currently has a gun pointed directly at him and is at a distinct disadvantage.

“Look, will you just put the gun down so we can have a civil conversation?”

 _Not a chance_. “Not until you explain why you’re stealing.”

This is a terrible idea. What he _should_ do is call the police and get the hell out of here, but he has a feeling that as soon as he turns his back, the intruder will make a break for it, or attack him. He could try and find a way to restrain him, but he has no idea where to begin.

The intruder sighs. “I really hate calling it _stealing_. Besides, I’m not taking anything that wasn’t already stolen.”

“What do you mean?” Nicky asks, even though he already knows exactly what the intruder means. How could he not? He loves his job, or _loved_ it, but that part never sat right with him.

The intruder - Nicky should really ask his name - waves his hand. “I steal, yes, but I arrange for what I take to be sent back to where it belongs. One artifact at a time.”

Slowly, Nicky lowers his gun. “Really?”

“Would I lie?”

Nicky gives him a look. “You are stealing.”

The intruder laughs. He has a nice laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Nicky.”

“Joe,” the intruder says. “Now, are you going to put down the gun or what? I promise I’m not going to hurt you or something.”

Slowly, Nicky lowers the gun, and Joe lets his hands drop.

“If you could give me a bit of a headstart to get out of here before you call the police, that would be great.”

“What?”

Joe gestures between them. “Well, it’s not like I can keep going with this, you caught me fair and square. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to avoid getting sent to jail, and you seem like a respectable citizen who would absolutely call the police if they met an intruder in the middle of the night.”

 _That’s_ what Nicky should have done when he heard footsteps. Not go chasing after the intruder like some kind of hero.

“I want to help,” he blurts out.

“ _What_?” Joe asks disbelievingly.

 _No going back now_. “I want to help,” he repeats. “You said you’re taking it back to where it belongs, no?”

“I did.”

“Then let me help you get out of here. I don’t know how you came in, but going out my way is probably much simpler.”

“What’s your way?” Joe asks.

“The exit.”

Joe laughs again. “I like you, Nicky.”

Nicky gives him a small smile in response, then tucks his gun into his waistband, immensely grateful he didn’t have to fire it. “How are you planning to keep the museum from noticing?”

Joe reaches into his satchel, and Nicky flinches, suddenly terrified he made the wrong decision.

“Relax,” Joe says, noticing Nicky’s reaction. “I have a fake.” He pulls out an almost-exact replica of the book currently sitting in the display case behind him, and a sheet of paper. He hands it to Nicky. “Hold that.”

Nicky does, watching in fascination as Joe carefully removes the original, slides it into his satchel, then holds out his hand for the replica. He checks the sheet of paper, which Nicky sees is a perfect sketch of the book in its case down to the contents of the page it's open on, then sets the replica down, adjusting it a few times until he’s satisfied.

“Did you draw that?”

“Partially, yes.” Joe bends over to screw the display case’s lid back on.

“Why replace it with a replica? Why not just take it?”

“Makes it easier for us to avoid suspicion. By the time they realise - which they probably will - we’re long gone. Besides, it gives Sebastien something to do.”

Nicky has a lot more questions, none of which seem important enough to ask now.

“Okay. That’s done. Now, you said you’d help get me out of here.”

Nicky blinks. “Oh. Right. Yes.” He leads Joe through the gallery and into the ‘staff only’ area, then out through the back entrance.

The night - well, early morning - air is cold, and Nicky shivers as they step outside. When he’d left his apartment this morning, he hadn’t meant to be walking home at one am.

“Well then, Nicky,” Joe says, turning to him with a smile, “thank you for your help.”

Nicky averts his eyes. “I didn’t do much.”

“You didn’t call the police. Which was very nice of you, by the way. I can’t think of many people who would _help_ someone steal something from a museum.”

Nicky shrugs. “It was a special case, I guess. Where are you going now?”

“I have to deliver this thing, right?” Joe’s smile is disarming: Nicky _really_ shouldn’t trust this man, and he _should_ go home now, but he also really doesn’t want to.

For some reason, he can’t stomach the thought of Joe disappearing into the night, and never seeing him again.

“You’ll get home all right?” Joe asks.

Nicky shrugs. “Probably.”

Joe raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t exactly sound convincing. Given that this is partially my fault, let me walk you home.”

Nicky should say no.

He doesn’t.

“Nicoló,” he says instead. He’s not entirely sure why.

Joe tilts his head.

“Um. My full name. Nicoló di Genova.” He wishes he hadn’t said anything.

“Nicoló,” Joe says, smiling. He holds out his hand. “Yusuf al-Kaysani. It’s nice to meet you.”

Nicky shakes it and smiles back.


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Nicky joined them two years ago, Joe’s life has gotten much easier: he’s learned that breaking into places is usually better when you have someone watching your back.  
> -  
> It's been two years since Nicky caught Joe stealing. They've been working together ever since.

_Two years later_

London always seems to be cold. And it’s usually raining. And Joe hates it. He's gotten used to it, after years of living in the city, but that doesn't mean he _likes_ it.

They don’t usually work this close to home. Andy had _hated_ the idea. Joe thought it was quite good, especially since after this he could _actually_ take a holiday, instead of using it as a front for another break-in. Sure, he'd have to lie low for a while, but he'd get to rest for the first time in a while.

Today, he and Nicky are on gallery duty; they have one last chance to familiarise themselves with their route and the building before tonight.

He catches Nicky’s eye from across the gallery and winks. Nicky gives him a small smile and averts his eyes.

Since Nicky joined them two years ago, Joe’s life has gotten _much_ easier: he’s learned that breaking into places is usually better when you have someone watching your back. And he likes having someone to talk to, just to break the silence.

“Do you think Booker will finish in time?” Nicky says, appearing as if from nowhere beside Joe. Another thing he’s learned: Nicky is very, _very_ light on his feet. The discovery had made Joe feel much better about getting caught.

“Have a little faith, Nicoló,” Joe teases. “He’ll come through. He said he would, didn’t he?” Booker had said he needed a little longer to make the replica, but he'd promised to have it done in time.

“And you have the sketch?”

Joe flips his sketchbook open and flips it to show Nicky the drawing of the statue in its case. “It’s done. Relax.” He’s careful _not_ to let Nicky see the next page, where Joe has been amusing himself by sketching him for the past hour. 

“I will _relax_ when we’re done.”

Joe laughs. 

Nicky always gets like this before a job, regardless of how many times they’ve gone over the plan (and the amount of times they’ve done this and succeeded). Joe knows him well enough to know he won’t fully calm down until it’s been a few days, and sometimes not even until they’re out of the country.

Admittedly, circumstances are a little different this time. They're usually in a different country, not in the same city where they both _live_.

“We’re still trying to decide where we’ll go after this,” Joe says. “You have any preference?”

Nicky shrugs, glancing over his shoulder.

“Come on. You must have _some_ ideas. Two weeks, anywhere in the world. Within reason, of course, you’re not dragging me to the Arctic.”

That gets Nicky to smile. “What if I want to see the penguins?”

Joe stares at him. “Nicky, I hate to break this to you, but penguins live in _Antarctica._ Not the Arctic.”

“No, I’m sure it was the Arctic.”

“You’re thinking of polar bears.”

“No, I’m thinking of penguins.”

Joe shakes his head and smiles. “Okay. Fine. When this is over, we’re going to settle this.”

“Of course,” Nicky says. “But I’m right.” 

Joe bursts out laughing.

* * *

“One more time. You get in through the-”

“Service entrance. We’ve gone over this a thousand times, Andy,” Joe says.

Andy sits forward. “And we’ll go through it again until I’m confident you have it memorised. We can’t afford to make a mistake on this one.”

“You say that every time,” Booker says from his seat at the table. 

“And this time I mean it. We're too close to home this time.”

Joe sighs. “Come on, boss. When have I ever made a mistake?”

“Nicky caught you,” Nile says without even looking up from her book. She’s sitting across the table from Booker, who chuckles.

Joe throws up his hands in exasperation. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Absolutely not,” Quýnh says. She sits down beside Andy, drawing her knees up to her chest as she curls into Andy's side, and gives Joe an amused look. “One more time, then, al-Kaysani.”

“Why doesn’t Nicky have to do this?” Joe asks instead.

Nicky appears in the doorway. “What don’t I have to do?”

“Because Nicky is more careful than you,” Andy says.

“That’s not fair.”

Quýnh shrugs. “She isn’t wrong.”

Joe looks over at Nicky, as if to say _Are you hearing this?_ or maybe _help me out here_ , but Nicky just smiles and disappears back into the kitchen.

“So. Service entrance,” Andy prompts.

Nicky enters quietly, holding two cups of tea, which he sets down on the table in front of Booker and Nile, then leaves again. Nile still doesn’t look up, but murmurs a quiet _thank you._

“Then up to the gallery,” Joe continues. “Get in, get the statue, get out before the next guard comes round.”

Andy nods approvingly as Nicky reappears with tea for her and Quýnh. 

“Thank you, Nico,” Quýnh says, taking the cup, and Andy echoes the sentiment.

“How long do you have?” she asks.

“Fifteen minutes, maximum, but I should try to do it in ten.”

“Good. And what’s your exit?”

“Same way we came in.”

Nicky enters a third time, handing a cup of tea to Joe before finally sitting down in the chair beside his.

“And don’t pull any reckless shit, Joe,” Andy says pointedly. “We can’t afford-”

“To make a mistake, I know. Don’t worry. I have Nicky to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”

He finds himself glancing over at Nicky to see his reaction, and is rewarded with a small smile. “Where would you be without me?” Nicky asks.

“Jail,” Quýnh says, before Joe can even answer.

Joe sighs dramatically. “You all have so little faith in me.”

“You two should get some sleep,” Andy says. “Book, Nile, you can stay here or go home if you want. Your choice.”

“I’m gonna head out,” Nile says, and Booker nods in agreement.

“Fine. Joe, you know where the guest room is. We’ll wake you in a few hours.”

It’s Nicky who gently shakes him awake a few hours later, almost apologetically. Joe wonders, for a moment, if he even slept at all. Unlikely.

“Come on,” Nicky says softly, nothing but a silhouette in the light from the doorway. “Time to go.”

* * *

All things considered, this job is going well.

They’ve made it safely into the gallery, and - Joe checks his watch - they have about five minutes until they need to be going. And he’s almost gotten Booker’s replica safely into the display case, the original already in his satchel.

“Done?” Nicky whispers in Italian.

“Almost,” Joe responds. They almost never speak English when they’re working - it’s just one of the unspoken rules they’ve accidentally established.

Careful to make as little noise as possible, Joe closes the display case and screws the hinges back on.

“Okay,” he says. “All done. Let’s go.”

“The next guard?” Nicky asks, already moving towards the exit.

Joe checks his watch. “Three minutes.”

Nicky nods. Joe slips past him and exits the gallery, walking quickly through the almost-silent corridor. He doesn’t need to look to know Nicky is close behind him.

Another unspoken rule: Joe always goes first.

He hears footsteps behind him, and judging by Nicky’s sharp intake of breath, he hears them too. 

_The next guard is early_.

Before Joe has a chance to react, Nicky grabs his arm and pulls him into a storage closet Joe didn’t even notice.

It’s a _very_ small space, and Joe has never been so grateful that he’s not claustrophobic. His heart is still racing. Whether from adrenaline or shock or the close proximity to Nicky, he isn’t sure.

They wait in silence. The footsteps grow louder and then quieter as the guard walks past and around the corner.

Joe exhales slowly when he’s sure he can’t hear them anymore. Nicky is still tense, like he’s ready to move if someone finds them. Not that there’s anywhere to move.

“Nicoló,” Joe says softly. “We should go.”

Nicky blinks, then nods. Joe pushes open the door, listening for a brief moment for any more approaching footsteps before stepping out into the corridor.

“Come on,” he says, and they start moving again.

Thankfully, they make it safely to the service entrance without further incident. Nicky closes it behind him. The door opens out into an empty alleyway, and Joe lets himself relax a little. The hardest part is over.

Over the years, Joe has learned that the trick to getting away is not to run. No matter how much you might want to. Running only makes you look more suspicious.

This doesn’t stop them from moving quickly: Joe has to jog a little to catch up with Nicky. They don’t speak until they’re a few streets away from the museum, and nobody has come after them. 

_Now, we’re safe,_ Joe thinks.

Nicky starts to laugh, and Joe thinks it must be one of his favourite sounds in the whole world. Joe laughs too, because Nicky is laughing, and then they’re standing there in the middle of the street at almost midnight and Joe feels like he could fly.

These are his favourite moments: right after a job, when it’s just them and Nicky lets his guard down. When the moon is out and they’re both still high on adrenaline and for a moment, they’re the only two people in the world.

Nicky’s smile lights up his whole face, as bright as the moon, and Joe thinks he might just kiss him now, consequences be damned.

He could. 

He wants to.

A car turns the corner onto the street and the spell is broken. Nicky looks away, his usual calm expression returning, and Joe already misses his smile.

The car stops beside them, and Nicky opens the door for Joe. Joe thanks him and slides into the backseat.

“How did it go?” Andy asks as Nicky climbs in.

“We got it, if that’s what you’re asking,” Joe says, holding up his satchel.

“No problems?”

“Security guard came around early, but we were fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep.”

“Good. We’ll take care of everything else tomorrow morning.”

“Fine by me,” Joe says, then pulls his hat over his eyes and promptly falls asleep.

* * *

“Alright, make sure you have that for the first day back, and I’ll see you all after the break.”

Joe leans back in his seat as shuffling sounds fill the classroom and tries not to look too excited.

He’s _done_. And now he gets a break. One which doesn’t involve stealing from another museum. Not that he doesn’t enjoy that, but he’s looking forward to an actual break.

Once the last students have left, Joe sets about packing up, albeit slightly faster than usual. He only has a few more things he needs to get done and then he can leave.

But when he arrives at his office, there’s already someone waiting for him.

“Professor Al-Kaysani,” the man in his doorway says. “I was hoping you would have a moment to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the penguin conversation brought to you by my inability to remember whether they live in the arctic or antarctic  
> tune in next chapter for: The Actual Plot Begins
> 
> i'm demonicneonfishy on tumblr too if you wanna say hi!


	3. The Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ll figure something out,” Nicky says eventually. He stares at the horizon. “Together. Like we always do.”
> 
> It’s these little things. The way Nicky casually drops phrases that, to Joe, carry so much weight - I always go with you, together, you and me - they’ve known each other for two years, and it still catches Joe off guard every time.
> 
> “Yeah,” he says. He wants to say so much more, but now isn’t the time. “We will.”  
> -  
> Joe has a new job. This one is unlike anything he's ever done before.

Joe stares at the man in his doorway.

He doesn’t recognise him, and his mind is racing with the possible reasons why he could be here. 

_There’s no way you could have gotten caught last night,_ Joe reassures himself. _Relax. Breathe. Panicking will only give you away._ It’s advice Andy had given him when he first started and had barely slept the night after for fear of getting caught.

He hasn’t been this scared of discovery in years.

“Of course,” he manages, offering his hand. “Please, call me Joe.”

“James Copley,” the other man says, shaking it. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now. I have a proposal for you.”

Joe sits down. “What kind of proposal?”

“You might have heard of my employer. Steven Merrick,” Copley says, sitting down in the chair across from Joe.

Joe shrugs. “Can’t say I have.”

“Well. Mr Merrick would like you to obtain a certain item for him.”

His heart begins to race.

He needs to get _out_ , he needs to tell Andy there’s a problem. He needs to _breathe_. Somehow, this Merrick knows about them. In five years of doing this, nobody has ever found out.

“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person, Mr Copley,” he says, careful to keep his voice steady. _Panicking will only give you away._ “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to do.”

“Maybe these will change your mind.” Copley reaches into his jacket and pulls out a stack of photos. He sets them down on the table and slides them across to Joe.

He turns the first one over. It’s him, in the museum, sketching the statue they’d stolen last night. The next one is him and Nicky, in front of the display case.

Andy. Quýnh. Booker. Even Nile. They’re all there.

“We have even more evidence placing you and your group at the scene of multiple break-ins a few days before they occurred.”

There’s _more_.

 _Shit_.

Joe leans back. “I don’t steal for money. No matter how much your _employer_ is offering.”

“I don’t think you understand the situation, Mr al-Kaysani. We have enough evidence to confirm you as the perpetrator of multiple thefts globally. If we hand this information over to law enforcement, you and your associates will most likely be sent to jail.”

Everything clicks at once. “You’re blackmailing me.”

“We are simply providing appropriate motivation. This item is something Mr Merrick would prefer to keep low-profile.”

He’s struggling to see a way out of this one.

Joe sighs. “I want two days to decide. Then I’ll meet with your employer himself.”

Copley nods. “I will be in touch.”

With that, he gets up and leaves the room.

Joe stares blankly at the wall, his mind racing. They’ve always been so careful. How could this have happened?

He stuffs the photos Copley left on the desk into his satchel, slings it over his shoulder, and leaves, ignoring everything he still hasn’t done. He’ll tell the university he got sick, or something.

He has more pressing matters to attend to.

* * *

“They have _what_?” Andy asks.

Joe pulls the photos from his satchel and tosses them on the table, more forcefully than he means to.

“And you agreed to meet with him?”

Joe sits down and sighs. “What was I supposed to do, Andy? He has photos of all of us.”

“Wait, _what_?” Nile asks, entering the room.

Joe tells the story for the second time as Nicky spreads the photos out across the table, examining each one.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Nile says. 

“Do we know anything about him?” Nicky asks, glancing up at Joe. “Merrick?”

“I think I’ve heard the name,” Quýnh responds. “He’s rich, that’s about all I know.”

“When are you meeting him?” Andy asks.

“I told him I needed two days. He said he’d be in touch.”

Andy leans back in her chair, closing her eyes with a sigh. Quýnh laces their fingers together, shooting Joe a sympathetic look.

“You’re not really going to do it?” Nile asks incredulously. “They’re _blackmailing_ you, Joe.”

“It doesn’t seem like we have much of a choice,” Joe says tiredly. “If it was just me then maybe things would be different, but they know about all of us.”

“He tell you any details about the job?” Booker asks.

“Outside of _my employer wants you to obtain an item_ -” Joe does his best impression of Copley, which isn’t exactly flattering- “no.”

“So who else is going?” Nicky asks.

Joe stares at him in surprise for a moment. “What?”

“To meet with Copley. Besides you and me,” he says. 

“Oh, no. You’re not coming with me.”

“You can’t go alone. And anyway, I always go with you. Why should this be any different?”

“Because…” _because we don’t know what we’re walking into, because it could be a trap, because I really don’t want you to get hurt if things go wrong._

“Nicky is right,” Andy says. “It’s dangerous to go alone.”

“It’s also dangerous for too many of us to go. We could be walking right into a trap,” Joe protests. 

“Which is even more of a reason why you can’t go alone. Copley knows all of us, anyway, and most of the pictures are of you and me.”

Joe knows their argument makes perfect sense, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He can’t deny, however, that he’ll feel a lot safer with Nicky beside him.

“Fine,” he says. “But that’s it.”

“We have time,” Nile says. “Two days, right? We have time to work this out.”

Joe gets up. “I need some air.”

He crosses the room to the balcony door and steps outside. The cool air is a relief from the tension inside, and he takes a deep breath.

He leans over the railing and looks out at the street below.

The door behind him opens again, and he doesn’t need to look to know it’s Nicky. He can tell by the rhythm of his footsteps.

Nicky moves to stand beside him, also leaning on the railing. He doesn’t say a word for a few minutes, but Joe doesn’t need him to. His presence is enough.

“Are you okay?” he asks finally.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Joe responds. Maybe he’s joking. He’s not quite sure.

Nicky turns his head to look at him. “It’s okay. If you’re not.”

Joe exhales slowly and looks down at his hands. “I’ve been doing this for five years,” he begins. “I’ve only ever been caught once, and, well…” He smiles a little. “You know how that one turned out. But aside from that, I’ve always been…” He trails off. “I don’t know. Untouchable. It sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s not.”

“I always knew there was a danger of getting caught, I just never _thought_ about it. The reality of it, that is. I just kept getting away, and then I find out there have been people watching for a while… it’s jarring.”

“It makes sense,” Nicky says. “It’s a stressful situation.”

Joe manages to laugh. “You can say that again.”

Nicky gives him a small smile, and the silence returns. Joe already feels himself relaxing.

“We’ll figure something out,” Nicky says eventually. He stares at the horizon. “Together. Like we always do.”

It’s these little things. The way Nicky casually drops phrases that, to Joe, carry so much weight - _I always go with you, together, you and me_ \- they’ve known each other for two years, and it still catches Joe off guard every time.

“Yeah,” he says. He wants to say so much more, but now isn’t the time. “We will.”

* * *

Nicky is restless.

He’s been drumming his fingers on his knee for the past five minutes, which is most of the time they’ve been waiting for Copley. Joe hates seeing him this stressed.

Then Copley finally arrives.

“Mr al-Kaysani,” he says. “It’s good to see you again.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Joe says venomously as Copley sits down across from them.

He doesn’t have a choice about being here, but that doesn’t mean he has to be _nice_ about it.

“I suppose that’s fair, given the circumstances.” Copley looks Nicky over and offers his hand. “Nicoló di Genova, I presume?”

Nicky nods tersely and doesn’t shake his hand.

Joe has learned a lot about Nicky in the past two years. He loves to cook, especially for other people; he studied the Crusades before he joined them; he has a particular interest in swords, and always drags Joe to see them in any museum they’re in. (Joe pretends to mind, but he loves seeing Nicky so enthusiastic.) He also knows that Nicky goes very, very quiet when he’s angry.

He’s definitely angry now. 

A few uncomfortable moments pass before Copley retracts his hand, slightly embarrassed.

Joe resists the urge to laugh.

“Let’s just get to business, Copley,” Joe says. “What does Merrick want?”

Copley sets a file down on the table and slides it across to them. “The object is known as Pandora’s Box.”

Nicky looks up, sharply, but stays silent.

“Like the myth?” Joe flips open the file to a drawing of what looks like a clay jar.

“Not the very same, but yes. The object has moved around throughout history, but we believe it is currently in Egypt.”

“Which museum?”

“What?”

Joe passes the file to Nicky, who leans forward slightly to look at it, still glancing at Copley every now and then. “Which museum is this thing in?”

“It’s not in a museum. We believe it was kept in a temple and remains there to this day.”

Joe laughs. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I’m not.”“Listen, you have definitely got the wrong guy. You need me to break into a museum for you, I can do that. I don’t break into temples and steal stuff. That is the exact opposite of what I do.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Joe laughs again. “Right. I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?”

“No.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair. “If I’m going to do this, Merrick is paying for it.”

He may not have a choice in whether he does it, but he’s sure as hell going to make Merrick pay. Literally.

Copley nods. “We will give you three days to work out the details and send them over to us. All the details are in the file. After that, Merrick wants the item in two weeks.”

“And if we don’t manage it by then?”

“The evidence is handed over to law enforcement.”

 _Two weeks_.

He can do this in two weeks.

He takes the file and stands. “We’ll be back in two weeks.”

Without giving Copley time to answer, he leaves the room, Nicky close behind him.

* * *

“Pandora’s Box,” Nile repeats. “They’re sending you after Pandora’s Box.”

“Not exactly the one you’re thinking of, but yes,” Joe says.

“And this guy wants you to _steal it from a temple_.”

“It would seem so.”

“Is he insane?”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Andy looks up from where she’s been studying the file Copley gave him for the past half an hour. “Quýnh, have you talked to Lykon recently?”

“He sent us a message a few days ago, remember?” Quýnh responds. 

“We should ask if we can stay with him for a few days.”

“I can make Merrick pay for a hotel,” Joe points out. “All expenses covered, remember?”

“I trust Lykon,” Andy says shortly. “If something goes wrong, I don’t want to be surrounded by people who could be in Merrick’s pocket.”

Joe would tease her for being paranoid, but he supposes it makes sense.

“Who’s going?” Joe asks.

“I am,” Andy says.

Joe looks over at Nicky, who nods. He doesn’t even need to ask. It’s strangely comforting.

Everything else might be uncertain, but at least he knows Nicky will be with him.

“Don’t know what use I’d be,” Booker says. “If you don’t need anything forged…”

“I can stay behind and keep an eye on Merrick,” Quýnh suggests. “And I’ll find out more about him, see if I can figure out why he wants this box so badly.”

That leaves Nile.

“It’s your choice,” Joe says. “You can stay here with Booker and Quýnh, or come to Egypt with us.”

“I’m coming with you,” Nile says almost instantly. “It’s better with more of us, right?”

Joe is conflicted. He wants them to stay, because this is unlike anything they’ve ever done before. But he also knows that without them, he doesn’t have a chance.

“Cairo, then?” he asks.

Nicky nods. “Cairo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the Plot begins!  
> if anyone can spot my shameless Zelda reference, you're my new favourite person  
> -  
> also, the positive response i've gotten for the first two chapters of this has been overwhelming and i just want to say thank you guys so much, it really means a lot to me that you're reading and enjoying this fic. i'm having a whole lot of fun writing it and i'm really glad you guys like it.  
> -  
> as usual, i'm demonicneonfishy on tumblr too!


	4. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s stories of a jar that when opened, causes only death. That’s why it moved around so much. They put it in the temple in the hope that nobody would find it and use it again,” Nicky explains.
> 
> Joe whistles. “So not only are we stealing from a temple, we’re stealing a possibly-deadly jar from the temple.”  
> -  
> Joe, Nicky, Andy and Nile arrive in Cairo.

Nicky traces the letters of the word MERRICK on the back of the file sitting in his lap.

He glances out the window of the plane. They haven’t even made it to their first stop, and he’s already read the thing three times.

A few minutes after they took off, Joe had pulled his fedora down over his eyes and proceeded to fall fast asleep. Nicky envies his ability to nap seemingly anywhere. There’s not much else to do. 

He now sleeps with his head on Nicky’s shoulder, his hat slowly falling onto his lap. Nicky should mind, but he doesn’t. 

“So who’s Lykon?” he asks Andy, just to fill the silence.

“An old friend of ours. Moved to Cairo a few years ago. He used to help Quynh with moving things around.” By things, Nicky assumes, she means the objects Joe stole.

“You don’t talk about him often.” Though, he supposes Andy doesn’t talk about _anything_ often. Nicky knows some things about Andy - she loves food (especially baklava) almost as much as Nicky loves to cook, she likes to ride, she knows languages Nicky’s never even heard of - but there’s still so much he doesn’t know about her. Andy shrugs. “It never came up.”

Nile, like Joe, is asleep. Andy looks out of the window and doesn’t make further conversation.

Nicky flips the file over and begins to read again.

It’s going to be a long flight.

* * *

Finally, they’re off the plane after what felt like forever. Joe had slept the whole time, leaning on Nicky’s shoulder for a large portion of it.

When they get outside, it’s so bright that Nicky has to squint to see anything in the sun. Joe just adjusts his fedora and laughs at him.

Lykon is waiting for them outside the airport, leaning against . A smile slowly spreads across his face as he catches sight of them and steps forward.

Andy must have told him they were coming. She smiles as they approach, walking just a little faster.

“Andromache,” Lykon says, hugging her tight. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Andy responds, hugging him back. “Quynh says she wanted to come, but we decided it was better for her to stay.”

“Ah, you’ll just have to come again.”

Andy steps back. “Lykon, this is Nile-” Nile waves- “and Nicky.” Nicky nods in greeting.

“I’ve heard a lot about you both.” Lykon gives them the same warm smile he gave Andy.

Nicky glances around. Since the meeting with Copley, he’s become even more paranoid, looking over his shoulder for someone taking pictures.

Andy trusts Lykon. Nicky trusts Andy. _We will be safe_ , he tells himself.

“Shall we get going, then?” Lykon asks, opening the car door.

Andy nods and climbs into the passenger seat. Joe slides into the back, Nile beside him, and Nicky follows.

* * *

Lykon’s home is the sort of place that makes Nicky feel safe as soon as he enters, like Joe’s apartment, or Andy and Quynh’s house. He can’t explain it. Maybe he’s just tired.

The room they enter is small, with six mismatched but comfortable looking chairs around a low table in the center.

“So,” Lykon says, inviting them all to sit down. Nicky does so gratefully: he hadn’t realised how exhausted he was. “I know you’re not just here to visit.”

Andy begins to explain, with Joe adding in certain details, and Nicky finds himself staring out of the window. There’s not a cloud in the sky.

“...the file, Nicky?” Joe’s voice drags him back to reality. He blinks a few times, confused, then registers the request.

“Here.” He hands Lykon the file, which he can now probably recite from memory. When all this is over, he’s going to burn the thing.

Lykon skims through the first page, his brow furrowing. “This isn’t your usual kind of thing.”

“Merrick blackmailed us,” Joe says. 

“He’s insane,” Nile adds. 

Lykon taps the map paperclipped to the inside cover. “I know where this is. We can make our way there in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Andy says.

Lykon shrugs. “It’s no problem. This should be interesting, anyway. Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry.”

* * *

They sit around the table in the kitchen, the plates from dinner having already been cleared away.

“So, Nile, how’d you end up with these idiots?” Lykon asks.

“Hey!” Joe exclaims indignantly. 

“I’m studying art restoration,” Nile says. “I walked in on Booker and Joe talking about a replica for something they were going to steal. They explained, and I convinced them I wasn’t going to tell anyone, and eventually Joe introduced me to Andy and Quynh.”

“You ever help with the replicas?” 

“Sometimes. Only when Booker asks me to. I’m still learning, so I’m not very good yet.”

“That is the most ridiculous statement I have ever heard,” Joe declares, then to Lykon: “She’s a natural. Few more years and she’ll be better than Sebastien.”

Lykon laughs, then turns to Nicky. “And you?”

“Here we go,” Andy mutters into her glass. Despite her apparent annoyance, she's smiling.

“I caught Joe stealing,” Nicky says.

“No.” Lykon’s eyes go wide. “Joe, I thought you were better than that.”

“I _am_ ,” Joe insists. “It was _one time_ , and Nicky shouldn’t have been there anyway.”

Nicky smiles. “I still caught you.”

“Now you have to tell me the whole story,” Lykon says.

Nicky leans back in his chair and lets Joe tell the story, not even correcting him when he gets minor details wrong, content to listen to him talk.

“So you walk him home, and then what?” Lykon asks.

“I showed up again the next day,” Joe admits. “Same gallery.”

“Despite me telling you repeatedly that it was a _bad idea_ ,” Andy interjects.

“Hey, we got Nicky, didn’t we?”

“He asked if I wanted to help him again,” Nicky continues.

“He said yes,” Joe says gleefully.

“And then I met Andy and Nile.”

“The _look on your face_ when you realised Quynh was part of it - priceless -”

“You already knew Quynh?” Lykon says, ignoring Joe.

“She worked at the same museum for a few months. We were friends.”

“She should have told us you’d be there,” Andy says in a way that makes him think she still hasn’t forgiven Quynh.

“She didn’t exactly know,” Nicky points out.

“He’s been with us ever since,” Joe says. He smiles over at Nicky in a way that warms Nicky’s heart.

“Alright, alright, you two,” Nile teases. 

They stay there, talking and laughing and sharing stories, well into the night.

* * *

“Nicky, you’re very kind and I admire you for it, but if you don’t let somebody else hold the money, you are going to get pickpocketed,” Joe says.

“I’m being careful,” Nicky protests.

“It’s nearly happened three times already.”

“ _Nearly_ being the key word here.”

“And the only reason they didn’t succeed was because I caught them.”

Nicky sighs and hands Joe the money.

Andy had decided that today they were shopping for supplies, and tomorrow they’d make their way to the temple. Andy, Nile and Lykon had gone one way, Nicky and Joe had gone the other, and now they’re on their way back to Lykon’s to regroup. And according to Joe, Nicky has almost been pickpocketed three times.

“You wouldn’t happen to have studied anything about this kind of thing?” Joe asks.

“In the past twenty four hours, yes. Before, no. I studied the _Crusades_ , Joe.”

Joe raises his hands with a smile. “Just asking.”

“I have found out a little from the information Copley sent us. I haven’t had time to go through all of it yet, but I know some things.”

Joe tilts his head. “Oh yeah?”

“For starters, it wasn’t originally a box.”

“Then why-”

“Mistranslation. It was more like a large jar. At least, the one in the myth was.”

“So _that’s_ why the picture in Copley’s file was a jar,” Joe realises. “That makes way more sense.”

“The one we’re looking for is also supposed to be cursed.”

“What?”

“There’s stories of a jar that when opened, causes only death. That’s why it moved around so much. They put it in the temple in the hope that nobody would find it and use it again,” Nicky explains.

Joe whistles. “So not only are we stealing from a temple, we’re stealing a possibly-deadly jar from the temple.”

“I want to know why Merrick wants it, if it’s so deadly,” Nicky says. “And why he needs you to do it.”

“I think we were the only ones he could get.” Joe watches a bird soar through the air. “Like Copley said, he’s trying to keep things low profile. He found out about us and decided to use the information to his advantage.”

“But why keep it low-profile? Why not use more legal methods to find this thing?”

Joe shrugs. “No idea. All we can really do is get it and hope Merrick stays true to his word about giving us the evidence if we pull this off.”  
“I still don’t like this,” Nicky mutters as they approach Lykon’s house.

Joe gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”

“Did you get it?” Andy calls from the doorway.

Joe holds up the bag. “Everything.”

They enter.

Nile is sitting in one of the chairs, her feet up on the table, reading. She looks up as they enter. “Did Nicky get pickpocketed?”

“He would have if I didn’t catch them,” Joe says.

“How many times?” Andy asks.

“Three.”

“Please tell me you didn’t bet on me again,” Nicky says.

Joe looks offended. “Nicoló, I would _never_.”

“Oh, really? Because I seem to recall you doing exactly that. Many times.”

“Enough,” Andy says, motioning for them to sit down. “We need to make a plan.”

Once everyone is seated around the table, Andy spreads out the map.

“We leave early. We don’t know how long this is going to take, but I’d prefer to be back before it gets too dark,” she begins. She points to a small x drawn on the map. “The entrance is here. Joe and Nicky will go inside, Nile and I will stay outside.” She looks between Nicky and Joe. “If anything goes wrong, you leave the box and get out _immediately_. This shit isn’t worth your lives, and we have no idea what we could be facing in there.”

Joe nods.

“I mean it. The _second_ something goes wrong, Joe. No heroic shit. I’m not losing you two on this. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear, boss.”

“Good. Now repeat the plan.”

Joe groans. “Really? Again?”

“Yes.”

“Leave in the morning, enter the temple, find the box, get out if something goes wrong,” Nicky says.

“See, this is why I have Nicky. He remembers the plan so I don’t have to,” Joe says.

Andy gives him a look that says _do not mess around on this_. “I need to know you remember it too. Just in case. Now repeat it.”

Nicky hides a smile as he gets up to join Lykon in the kitchen. 

Lykon greets him with a warm smile. “Did you need something?”

“I was going to ask if you needed any help,” Nicky says.

Lykon points to a pan on the stove. “You could stir that.”

Nicky moves over to the stove obediently and begins to stir the contents.

“So how long have you been working with them, Nicky?” Lykon asks. 

“Two years,” Nicky replies. 

“I would have thought it was more. You and Joe seem closer than that.”

“We’re just friends,” Nicky says quickly. It’s a complete lie, but Lykon doesn’t need to know that.

“I wasn’t trying to imply anything. Just making an observation.” He smiles again. “You work well together.”

“I’m sure Joe works just fine on his own.”

Lykon shakes his head. “I knew him for two years before I moved. He’s more vibrant with you in the room.”

“He’s always like that.”

Lykon shrugs. “Like I said, just an observation. Something to think about.”

Joe laughs from the other room at something Andy or Nile says. Nicky can’t help smiling, just a little, at the sound.

 _Something to think about, indeed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nicky's boredom on the plane flight brought to you by my experience with very boring plane flights  
> next chapter: joe and nicky get a break before the Angst begins


	5. The Calm before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Only a few minutes, huh?”
> 
> He looks up.
> 
> Joe is leaning against the doorframe, looking at him with a soft smile. “Were you planning to stay awake all night?”  
> -  
> It's the night before the job, and Nicky can't sleep.

Nicky is wide awake.

The other three have already decided to go to bed, leaving Joe and Nicky to their own devices. Andy had made them promise not to stay up too late, but at this rate Nicky isn’t sure he’ll be able to sleep at all.

He and Joe are sitting on the roof of Lykon’s house. There are two chairs and a table up here, under a wooden awning. Neither one of them speaks, content to simply enjoy the other’s company.

Nicky tilts his head back to look at the stars through the wooden slats. 

“You’re thinking,” Joe says.

“About tomorrow,” Nicky replies. 

Joe doesn’t respond, letting Nicky speak.

He takes a deep breath. “I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong,” he says. “I don’t know what it is, I just…”

“Hey. It’s gonna be okay. And even if it isn’t, we’ll get through it together, right?”

He turns his head to look at Joe and smiles. “Right.”

“And if we pull this off, we’re free. No more worrying about Merrick.”

“If he keeps his word.”

“I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Neither of them speak for a little while more.

“After all of this is over…” Joe exhales slowly. “I was thinking about leaving.”

“Leaving?” Nicky is suddenly very, very alert.

“Well. More like taking a year off. I love doing this, I really do, but it would be nice to take a break for a while. You know.”

“A year?” It feels like all he can do is repeat what Joe is saying: his brain is struggling to understand what’s happening.

“Give or take. I don’t know. I could just use some time off.”

He regains enough thought capacity to ask, “Where would you go?”

“I was thinking about Malta,” Joe says. 

“Oh.”

Nicky looks back up at the sky.

Joe is  _ leaving _ . 

Of course he is. Because of course he wants a break. He deserves one.

A whole _year_ , though… Nicky doesn’t know how he’ll manage it. He’s become so accustomed to his life with Joe and the others that he’s almost forgotten what his life was like without them. Maybe Andy and Quynh will let him keep working with them, if there’s something for him to do when Joe isn’t there. Even still, it won’t be the same without him.

Nicky is conscious of Joe’s eyes on him. He turns to look.

“You could. Um.” Joe takes a deep breath. “You could come with me.”

Nicky stares at him. 

“I mean, only if you want to, I just-” Joe stops and swears under his breath. “I was just wondering.”

“That would be nice,” Nicky says.

Joe visibly relaxes, and nods.

They talk quietly for a little while longer, before Joe finally stands. “I’m gonna get some sleep,” he says. “You coming?”

“I want to stay up for a little while longer,” Nicky says, standing up too. “There’s more information I haven’t gotten through yet.”

“You know you have to sleep eventually, right,” Joe says. 

“Only a few minutes.”

Joe gives him a look that says  _ I know what you’re like. _

“I promise. Only a few.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Joe calls over his shoulder as he disappears inside.

* * *

Nicky turns the page.

He’s not sure how long he’s been here, only that it’s been more than a few minutes. 

His hair is getting longer again, he notes absently. He brushes it away from his face and continues reading.

“Only a few minutes, huh?”

He looks up.

Joe is leaning against the doorframe, looking at him with a soft smile. “Were you planning to stay awake all night?”

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Nicky says.

Joe laughs at that, as if the thought of doing anything else is ridiculous. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m not finished,” Nicky protests. “There’s still more I haven’t read-”

“There’s only so much you can get through tonight, and I need you with me in the morning. Come on.”

Nicky is about to protest more, but senses that it won’t help.

Joe offers his hand, and Nicky takes it. He lets Joe pull him to his feet, and doesn’t let go as they walk to the second guest room.

“I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor,” Nicky says quickly as they enter. “If you want.”

They’ve shared a bed before in hotel rooms after jobs, and even last night, though they’re usually both too tired to care.

Joe gives him an exasperated but fond smile. “Nicky. There’s room for both of us. And besides, it’s never mattered before.”

“I know, but-” There’s no good response. 

“I really don’t mind. Believe me. Now, at least _try_ to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

Nicky’s never been good at falling asleep.

Especially not the night before jobs, when all he can do is worry about what might go wrong. On those nights, he prefers to stay awake, finding mindless tasks to occupy himself. But their jobs usually take place at night, and like Joe says, he needs to be alert tomorrow.

He still can’t fall asleep.

Instead, he lies awake, staring at the thin beam of light from the hallway, listening carefully to Joe’s breathing. He waits for it to even out, signalling that he’s fallen asleep, before pulling back the covers and sitting up.

“Nicky,” Joe mumbles. 

He freezes. 

Joe, half-asleep, slides his arm around Nicky’s waist and tugs him close, so his back is against Joe’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Nicoló,” he says softly.

Somehow, as if by a miracle, Nicky does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little shorter because i wanted to give them a break before the action (and the angst) begins  
> next chapter: the "indiana jones" part of this au


	6. The Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe swipes away the spiderwebs hanging in front of his face for what feels like the thousandth time. “So, this place is lovely.”
> 
> “It’s been buried for thousands of years, Joe,” Nicky responds. “I doubt they had someone come down to dust.”  
> -  
> Nicky and Joe finally make it to the temple. Shenanigans ensue.

“I know I’m not an expert, but…” Joe squints up at the cliff, his hands on his hips. “Just looks like a cliff to me, boss.”

Andy gives him a murderous look from where she’s crouched by the foot of the cliff. “You could help, instead of just standing there.”

“It should be here,” Nile says, studying the map. “Somewhere.”

Nicky looks at it over her shoulder, then back at the wall of rock in front of them. They’ve been searching for the entrance for almost an hour, and none of them have found anything.

“I’m starting to wonder if this place exists at all,” Joe says in Arabic. “Maybe we’re all just crazy.”

Nicky smiles in response.

They speak different languages depending on the situation. English is for conversations with other people, Italian is for jobs, Arabic is for when they don’t want anyone else in their group to understand. Or, as Andy would put it:

“You two had better not be talking shit about me behind my back.”

(When Joe really wants to annoy the others, he’ll mix Italian and Arabic to create what Nile has dubbed ‘Itarabic’, which is only half-comprehensible to the others. Arabic works just fine for private conversations, but letting the others understand a few words tends to be incredibly frustrating for them, and incredibly amusing for Joe. And Nicky, but Nicky is too nice to admit it.)

Joe gives Andy his most innocent smile. “Now, when have we ever done that?”

Andy glares at him again.

“Maybe we have the wrong place,” Nicky suggests.

“No, this is it,” Nile insists.

Joe sighs and kicks at a rock on the ground in front of him, but it doesn’t move.

The ground begins to shake.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Andy mutters, standing up.

Slowly, a crack appears in the earth at Nicky’s feet. Joe grabs his arm and pulls him back from the edge.

The crack widens, until there’s a gaping hole in the ground and a staircase leading down.

All four of them stare at the opening for a moment.

“I think we found it,” Nile says.

Andy tosses Joe his satchel and Nicky a torch. “Remember. Out as soon as anything goes wrong.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be careful,” Joe says. Andy doesn’t look reassured.

“Ready?” Nicky asks as Joe joins him at the entrance.

“As I’ll ever be,” Joe replies. “After you.”

* * *

Joe swipes away the spiderwebs hanging in front of his face for what feels like the thousandth time. “So, this place is lovely.”

“It’s been buried for thousands of years, Joe,” Nicky responds. “I doubt they had someone come down to dust.”

Joe stops. “This can’t be right.”

The passageway has reached a dead end.

Nicky lifts his torch, casting a flickering light on the wall in front of them. 

“You read hieroglyphics, by any chance?” Joe asks, looking at the wall. 

Nicky shakes his head, studying the markings. “Crusades, remember. You?”

“Absolutely not.”

Joe touches the stone, searching for some kind of way to open it. 

“I should have written the key down,” Nicky mutters. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just some cryptic warning telling us we’ll die if we enter, that kind of thing.”

Joe finds a stone that sticks out more than the others and presses it on a whim. The rumbling starts up again, and the wall begins to slide out of the way.

He glances over and smiles at Nicky. “See? All good.”

“You’re not exactly filling me with confidence here,” Nicky says. 

“We’ll be fine. Now come on.”

They continue without further incident for a little while, the only sound their footsteps against the stone and their breathing.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Joe comments after a while.

“Why not?” Nicky asks.

“If this thing is so dangerous, you’d think there would be more defense around it. Traps, or something.”

“Disappointed this is going so well?”

“I mean I’m not complaining, but…” He shrugs. “It makes me a little nervous.”

“I know what you mean.”

The light from Nicky’s torch falls on several rows of spikes set vertically into the wall. At their feet lie scattered pieces of what looks like bone.

“Lovely,” Joe remarks.

“Do you see some kind of catch?” Nicky asks.

Joe studies the floor in front of them. “No. But we should step carefully.”

He reaches down and picks up a loose stone from the floor, then tosses it in front of them. When the spikes don’t seem to move, he holds his hand out.

“What are you _doing_?” Nicky grabs his arm and pulls it back. 

“I don’t think we’re going to set them off,” Joe explains. 

“And you were sure of this, before you put your hand out?”

“About seventy percent sure.”

Nicky stares at him.

Joe sighs. “Everything’s okay, Nicky. See? Nothing happened.”

“You need to be more careful.”

Joe would usually make a joke about it, but the look in Nicky’s eyes tells him now really isn’t the time.

“Okay,” he says instead. “I’m sorry.”

Nicky relaxes, and nods. “Let’s go.”

After what feels like forever, they finally reach a circular chamber, completely empty except for a small raised pedestal in the center.

“Is that it?” Nicky asks quietly.

“Looks like it.”

The jar is small and unpainted. If Joe didn’t know better, he’d say they were in the wrong place. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a scarf he borrowed from Andy (he’s pretty sure it originally belonged to Quýnh) and a piece of string.

Nicky looks around. “You were right,” he says. “This is too easy.”

“Hey, all we have to do is get this thing and get out.”

Joe makes his way to the center of the room. Carefully, so as not to open it accidentally, he lifts the jar from its pedestal. It’s surprisingly light.

Nicky takes the scarf. Joe holds out the jar, and Nicky wraps it in the scarf before tying it closed with the string. 

“All done,” Joe says, tucking the jar into his satchel. “Now we get out of here.”

Just then, the ground begins to shake for the second time that day.

“You were saying?”

“We need to go,” Joe responds. 

“Wait,” Nicky says. “We should be careful. I find it difficult to believe we will just be able to walk out.”

Joe nods.

There’s nobody chasing them this time, no reason to try and avoid suspicion, but Joe still doesn’t start running. Call it a habit. Nicky is close behind him, as always, and they move quickly.

Until Nicky grabs his arm without warning, and pulls him back sharply.

“What are you-”

“The spikes.” Nicky points. “See?”

Joe swears under his breath. “I forgot.”

Nicky lets go of Joe’s arm and bends down to pick up a small stone from the ground.

“You think we activated something?” Joe asks as Nicky stands back up.

“It won’t hurt to check. It will hurt if we don’t check and then get impaled.”

Joe laughs as Nicky tosses the rock in front of them.

The spikes move before the rock has even hit the ground, shooting out and barring the way with a _clang_. 

“That may be a problem,” Joe says.

Nicky watches as the spikes recede slowly back into the wall. “I have an idea. When I tell you, _run_.”

“You sure about this?”

“Not exactly.” Nicky looks at him. “Do you have a different idea?”

“Nope.”

Nicky picks up another rock. “Ready?”

“Probably not.”

He throws the rock.

The spikes shoot out again, and the second they’ve receded enough for them to fit through, Nicky shouts “Run!”

Joe doesn’t need to be told twice.

They make it through just in time. The spikes barely miss the back of Nicky’s shirt.

“That was way too close,” Joe says once he’s caught his breath enough to speak.

“We survived, didn’t we?” Nicky responds, leaning against the wall.

“I thought you were supposed to be the careful one.”

“Variety helps keep things interesting.”

“If you say so. Come on. Just a little further, right?”

In truth, Joe has absolutely no idea how close they are to the exit. Nicky nods anyway, and they continue.

“Ah,” Joe says after a while. “We may have another problem.”

“Indeed,” Nicky agrees.

Before them is a wide open pit that Joe can’t quite see the bottom of. It’s too wide to jump, that’s for sure.

Nicky holds his torch closer to the opening. The light falls on what looks like wickedly sharp metal spikes set into the floor, and what Joe _thinks_ is a skeleton impaled on the spikes. He can only just see the other side.

“Delightful,” Joe remarks. “Any ideas?”

Nicky looks around. “There’s nothing we could use as a bridge.”

“We can’t jump, either.”

“So what do we do?”

Joe looks up at the ceiling, at a small piece of rock sticking out.

“I have a slightly insane idea,” Joe says.

“How is that different from any of your other ideas?” Nicky says, deadpan.

Joe elbows him. “Do you trust me?”

“Now you’re worrying me.”

“Do you trust me?” Joe repeats.

Nicky looks at him for a moment, then nods. “Of course.”

“Good.”

Joe reaches for the whip at his side and uncoils it. Nicky watches the motion, his brow furrowing.

“What are you-”

“You already said you trust me. No taking it back.” Joe ties the end of the rope around a small stone.

“I am beginning to regret my decision,” Nicky says. Joe just smiles, swings the rope in a circle a few times, and lets it fly.

It falls just short, and Joe reels it back in. The stone is still secure, so he throws it again.

This time, it catches, wrapping a few times around the rock sticking out of the ceiling.

“Is this going to work?” Nicky asks.

“I have no idea,” Joe responds.

He tugs a few times on the rope. When it doesn’t shift, he tests it to see if it can hold his weight. Then he wraps it a few times around his hand.

Nicky touches his arm. “Joe-”

Joe swings.

There’s a terrifying moment of _oh-shit-I’m-going-to-fall_ and then his feet meet the stone on the other side and he’s over. He stumbles slightly on the landing, but is otherwise fine.

“Joe?” Nicky calls, nervously. Joe can see him, still holding the torch.

“I’m okay,” he calls back. “Can you see me?”

Nicky sighs with relief. “Barely.”

“I’m gonna swing the rope over to you. Wrap it around your hand a few times and don't let go."

Nicky catches the rope in one hand.

“Now throw the torch to me.”

Nicky stares at him, incredulously. “You do realise this is _on fire_.”

“I know.”

“I’m not throwing a flaming object at you.”

“It’ll be fine. Anyway, you’ll be safer if you hold onto the rope with both hands.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just throw it, Nicky.”

Reluctantly, Nicky throws the torch. It spins end over end as it flies through the air, making the shadows on the walls dance. Joe steps neatly out of the way, letting it sail past him and clatter to the ground, the flame still burning.

“Now just… swing across.”

Joe doesn’t need to see Nicky clearly to know he’s giving him a _look._

“You’ll be fine,” he says, as reassuringly as he can manage.

“Joe. I can’t do this.”

“You can. Just hold on tight. I’m not going to let you fall, okay?”

Nicky takes a deep breath, and jumps.

Joe reaches out to steady him without thinking, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the edge. He _should_ let go, but he doesn’t, and Nicky doesn’t either. Rather, he’s clinging tightly to Joe’s jacket if his life depends on it.

“Hey. You made it.”

Nicky sighs, then lets his head drop onto Joe’s shoulder. 

“Never make me do that again,” he says, his voice slightly muffled. (The overall effect, Joe thinks, is adorable).

Joe smiles. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try my best.”

Nicky lets go and steps back. 

“Only a little further, right?” Joe tries.

“You already said that.”

“Oh, give me a break.”

Nicky picks up the torch, and they continue.

* * *

They’re almost there. Joe can see the stairs to get out, he can see daylight. He picks up speed, almost without knowing it.

He hears it before he sees it.

There’s a faint click, and a _whoosh_. Nicky begins to say something. Joe doesn’t have time to step back.

The arrow buries itself in his thigh, and it’s not just ordinary pain, it’s _burning_. He cries out.

Nicky pulls him back, and that’s when he sees the pressure plate in the stone and the tiny holes set in the wall.

“Shit,” Nicky mutters.

Joe leans heavily against the wall. A dark stain is spreading across the fabric of his trousers. He’s never been shot with an arrow before.

He needs to stop the bleeding. He knows that.

But something isn’t right.

His mind isn’t working right. He can’t think properly. His thoughts are clouded. What did he need to do again?

The pain, he realises, is no longer confined to the wound: it’s _everywhere_ , all at once.

There are dark spots swimming across his vision. He can’t hold his own weight anymore. His legs are too weak.

He pitches to the side, all of a sudden, and Nicky only just manages to catch him before he hits the stone.

“Joe.” Nicky’s hands are on either side of his face. “Joe, we’re nearly there. We need to get out of here.”

He can barely make out Nicky’s face. “Nicoló,” he breathes.

He blinks, and Nicky is saying something, but Joe can’t make out what it is. He’s not sure how much longer he can stay awake.

“Yusuf, stay awake, come on, _please-_ ”

He needs to tell Nicky something. He can’t remember what.

Then he remembers.

“Poison,” he whispers. He doesn’t have the strength to say it any louder.

“-open your eyes, _stay with me_ , Yusuf-”

He passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops :)  
> the process of writing this chapter was half watching the temple scene in the opening of raiders and thinking "so. how can i make this gayer" and half sitting there thinking "how would i do this if this were a zelda dungeon"  
> next chapter: angst!


	7. The Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened?” Andy asks.
> 
> “We were nearly out. He stepped on some kind of pressure plate, and it set off a hidden trap or something.”
> 
> Andy curses under her breath. “Okay. We need to get him to Lykon’s, and we’ll work it out from there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight content warning here for mentions of blood. nothing's overly described but just to be safe

This can’t be happening.

“Yusuf, _wake up_ ,” Nicky begs. He’s switched to Italian without noticing.

Joe doesn’t respond, but he’s still breathing. 

But for how much longer? _Poison_ , Joe had said, and Nicky doesn’t know how fast it’s working, or what it is, or if the arrow hit something important.

He’s starting to panic, and he doesn’t have time to panic.

Andy will know what to do. Andy always knows what to do.

 _Okay_. Nicky needs to move.

Carefully, so he’s too low for the arrows to hit him, he stretches out and pushes down on the pressure plate with his foot.

 _Click. Whoosh._ The arrows come flying out one after another, hitting the wall on the other side and clattering to the floor. Once a few moments have passed, and he’s sure there are no more, he moves his foot away.

“We’re going to get out of here,” he tells Joe. “Which means I need to move you, and there’s a very good chance this will hurt, and I’m sorry.”

He’s rambling, and Joe can’t hear him anyway.

He slings Joe’s arm over his shoulder and stands up slowly. Joe groans in pain. _Half-conscious, then_.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Nicky says. 

He half-carries, half-drags Joe out of the temple and into the sunlight. After so long in the dark, it takes him a few moments to adjust.

“Nicky!” Nile comes running towards them, her braids flying behind her. Her eyes widen as she takes in Joe’s appearance. “What happened?”

“Arrow,” Nicky says. “Poisoned.”

“Is he-”

“Alive.” _For now_ , he doesn’t add.

Nile takes Joe’s other arm and helps Nicky carry him over to Andy.

Andy is perfectly calm as she walks over to them. “Nile, get the car. Nicky, set him down here for now.”

Nile runs off towards the car as Nicky carefully lowers Joe to the ground.

“What happened?” Andy asks.

“We were nearly out. He stepped on some kind of pressure plate, and it set off a hidden trap or something.”

Andy curses under her breath. “Okay. We need to get him to Lykon’s, and we’ll work it out from there.”

 _Is he going to be okay?_ Nicky wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he can’t even think about the possibility that Joe won't be. He needs to focus on getting Joe back to Lykon’s. 

“You stay in the back with Joe. Nile and I will ride in the front. Try to keep him steady if you can.”

Nicky nods.

When Nile brings the car over, Andy helps Nicky lift Joe into the back, then gets into the passenger side.

“Nicoló?” Joe whispers as the car begins to move. His head is in Nicky’s lap, his eyes half closed.

“I’m here,” Nicky says softly in Arabic. 

“Where are we?” Joe’s voice is barely a whisper.

“In the car. We’re going back to Lykon’s, just hold on until then. Okay?”

“It _hurts_ ,” he says. “Everything hurts.”

“I know, habibi.” Nicky doesn’t mean to let the last part slip out, but he doesn’t bother trying to take it back. There’s a chance Joe won’t remember any of this anyway. “I know. It won’t be much longer.”

“Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine.” Nicky wants to laugh. Or maybe cry. Joe is bleeding out and poisoned, and he’s asking if _Nicky’s_ okay. Because of course he is. He’s Joe. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m tired.”

“It’s not much further. Just stay with me.”

* * *

Lykon takes one look at Joe and waves them inside.

“He needs a doctor,” Andy says. “Poison.”

Lykon, to his credit, doesn’t seem fazed. Instead, he nods and helps Nicky carry Joe through to their room.

“There’s a doctor just down the street,” Lykon says. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Nicky doesn’t hear Andy’s reply. Lykon leaves the room, and Nicky is alone.

Well, not exactly. Joe is fully asleep now, and Nicky has to watch the rise and fall of his chest to reassure himself that Joe is still breathing. It's shallow, but he's breathing. That's all that matters.

The doctor arrives moments later, a short woman with dark hair in a tight braid. She moves, businesslike, towards the bed and begins to examine the wound. She doesn’t ask how it happened, and Nicky is glad he doesn’t have to explain.

“I will need to remove the arrow and staunch the bleeding,” the doctor says. “Do you have anything to clean the wound with?”

Lykon nods and leaves again.

Joe’s eyes open halfway. “Nicky?”

Nicky takes his hand. “Here. They’re going to take the arrow out, okay?”

“Not.. my idea of fun.”

The doctor hands Joe a rolled up towel. “Bite down on this, please.”

Joe does, holding tightly to Nicky’s hand.

Carefully, the doctor takes hold of the arrow, and pulls.

Joe _screams_.

It's muffled by the towel, but the sound makes Nicky's heart ache. He squeezes Nicky’s hand so hard it hurts, but he doesn’t let go. 

And then the arrow is out, and the doctor is setting it aside.

“It’s over,” Nicky says. “It’s out. I promise.”

"Ow," Joe says weakly, and passes out again.

The doctor is pressing another towel to the wound, and the blood is staining it red and, _God_ , there’s so _much_.

Nicky thinks he’s going to be sick.

Andy touches his shoulder lightly. “We can handle this. Go.”

He wants to argue, because he can’t leave Joe, not now, but he doesn’t know if he can stay either.

“Go,” Andy repeats, more firmly this time, and Nicky doesn’t have the energy to argue.

Nile shoots to her feet when he leaves, her eyes searching his. “Is he okay?”

“They got the arrow out. There was…” He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “A lot of blood.”

Nile places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not the one who got shot in the leg.”

He needs to _do_ something. Anything. Just to keep his mind busy and away from what’s happening in the other room.

He walks into the kitchen. He can cook. Yes. Because he hasn’t eaten since early this morning, and it’s been hours since then, and he's hungry. 

Right.

He’s moving without really thinking about it, and the familiar motions help calm him down.

Nile sits in the kitchen with him. Neither of them say a word.

It’s dark by the time Andy and the doctor reappear. Nicky gets to his feet the instant they enter the room.

“He’s okay for now,” Andy says before Nicky can ask. “The doctor will be back in the morning. Until then, we need to stay with him and make sure he doesn’t get worse.”

“I can-” Nicky starts, but Andy cuts him off.

“Absolutely not. You need to rest, Nicky.”

“But-”

“ _N_ _icky_.” Her voice is gentle but firm. She’s looking at him like he’s about to break.

(Maybe he is.)

Andy is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He’s exhausted.

He lets Nile lead him away into one of the bedrooms - he’s too tired to remember whose - and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

* * *

Nicky knows, almost as soon as he wakes up, that he’s overslept.

For one thing, it’s bright outside, mid-morning bright. For another, he can hear Andy talking in the other room, and Andy, as a rule, doesn’t wake up before nine, and doesn’t speak until ten unless it’s an emergency.

Nicky gets up and enters the kitchen. Nile is mid-story, waving her hands as she speaks.

“...and it was just sitting in the attic, an _honest-to-God_ Rodin, and I don’t even wanna _know_ how they got that…”

Lykon laughs as Nicky sits down beside Andy. 

“Quýnh won’t let me sell it,” Andy says. 

“It’s just _sitting_ in your _attic-”_

Nicky can’t help smiling a little at Nile’s outrage.

“What time is it?” he asks when she finishes.

“About eleven,” Andy says. “The doctor came back an hour ago, she’s with him now.”

Nicky nods. He’s not really sure what to say.

“Did you get the box?” Nile asks.

“Yes.” He gets up and crosses the room to where Joe’s satchel has been abandoned on a chair. The box (well, jar) is still wrapped in its scarf, nestled safely in the bag. Nicky lifts it out carefully and runs his fingers over the surface, checking for cracks.

He unwraps it and sets it down on the table. In the daylight, it looks like nothing but a simple clay jar, and he wonders how this little object could be the cause of all this.

“What’s inside, then?” Andy asks, reaching towards it.

“Don’t open it.” The words come out sharper than he intended.

Andy retracts her hand. “Why not?”

“It’s supposed to be cursed. It brings death if opened.”

Andy raises one eyebrow. “You don’t believe that.”

“I’m not prepared to risk it.”

He knows it’s irrational. Curses are not real. A jar cannot kill someone.

But he can’t risk anyone else getting hurt, irrational as it may be.

The doctor enters the room, and Nicky sits up straighter.

“I have done what I can,” she says. “He should wake soon. If he does not, then contact me again. But if it gets to that point… there may not be anything I can do.”

Lykon gets up and leads the doctor from the kitchen, talking too quietly for Nicky to hear.

Nicky stands, looking at Andy as if to ask permission to go. She nods.

Without a word, he leaves the room.

* * *

There is something fundamentally wrong with the image of Joe asleep, his skin deathly pale, his shallow breathing the only indicator that he’s even alive.

Nicky lingers in the doorway. Part of him can’t even bear to look. The other part needs to know Joe is okay, the same way he needs to breathe.

Well. Maybe _okay_ isn’t the correct word.

He takes a tentative step into the room, unable to shake the feeling that this isn’t _right_. Joe is the sun itself, full of warmth and light and life. Not this.

He sits down in the chair beside the bed and reaches out to take Joe’s hand. The contact keeps him from going completely insane.

He sits there in silence for a long time.

“You are going to be okay,” he says eventually. “Because you still owe Booker for that time you bet him he couldn’t make a forgery that fooled you. And you and I still haven’t found out where the penguins are. And you told me we were going to Malta, and I’m not going to go without you.”

Joe doesn’t respond, but Nicky doesn’t expect him to.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

He can’t take it anymore.

He gets up and walks out.

* * *

Nicky is angry.

Angry at Merrick, for sending them here. Angry at the jar, for being so important that it needed to be guarded with poisoned arrows. Angry at himself, for not seeing the arrow.

He paces, restless. It’s been two _days_ , and Joe still hasn’t woken up. 

Nile, in the chair by Joe’s bed, watches him with a sympathetic look.

“You know this isn’t your fault,” she says. 

“I should have seen it,” he mutters. “The holes in the wall… I should have noticed.”

Nile gets up and moves in front of him, forcing him to stop in his tracks. “ _Nicky_ ,” she says firmly, placing both hands on his shoulders. “This isn’t going to help. What’s done is done. You can’t keep blaming yourself.”

Nicky is about to reply, but is interrupted.

“Hey, Nile,” Joe whispers. “Do penguins live in the Arctic or Antarctic?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> habibi = darling  
> see! he's not dead! i'm not that mean!  
> next chapter: recovering! from the poison!


	8. The Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean it, though. There are so many better things you could be doing.”
> 
> Nicky tilts his head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t want to do them without you.”  
> -  
> Joe heals, and the team prepare to go home.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Nile says. “Joe, you’re _okay_.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” His breathing is strained.

Nicky can’t speak, can barely breathe, certainly can’t look at anything else.

“Antarctic or Arctic?” Joe repeats.

“Uh, Antarctic, I think.”

Joe’s eyes are half closed, but he’s smiling. “See, Nile agrees with me.”

Nicky finally remembers how to move and crosses the room in a few strides, sitting down in the chair beside the bed.

The door clicks shut as Nile leaves, presumably to go get Andy, and they’re alone.

“As much as I like watching you sleep, I’m glad you’re awake,” Nicky says.

“Bedhead?”

Nicky can’t help laughing at that. “Nicely tousled.” He takes Joe’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “How are you feeling?”

“Kinda terrible, actually.” Joe shifts slightly, wincing. “Who knew getting shot in the thigh would hurt so much?”

Nicky squeezes his hand, and for the first time in days Joe squeezes back. The action is weak, but it’s _there_.

Nicky might cry from sheer relief.

“How long have I been out?”

“About two days. We were starting to think-” He can’t say it, even though he knows Joe is alive.

“Hey. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Before Nicky can respond, Andy opens the door and walks over to the end of the bed, folding her arms and glaring at Joe.

“ _This_ ,” she snaps, “is exactly what I was trying to _prevent_ when I told you to be _careful_ , Joe. Do you have any _idea_ how close that was?”

“I know you’re angry, but have mercy. I’m wounded.”

Andy glares at him, then pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “Promise me you’ll be careful from now on. I don’t ever want it to be that close again, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, boss.”

“Good.” She lets her hand drop, and the look on her face is more vulnerable than Nicky’s ever seen. “We were all worried about you.”

Nile is the next to enter, sitting down on the other side of the bed. “Glad you’re not dead,” she says. “Then I wouldn’t have anyone to prank Booker with.”

“Good thing I’m alive then, huh?”

* * *

This is, without a doubt, one of the more miserable situations Joe’s found himself in.

The arrow wound alone isn’t his idea of fun, but the poison makes things even worse.

He can’t even have the lights on in the room. It hurts his head too much. He can barely eat, because he can’t keep anything down, and his throat is almost constantly dry. And his whole body aches. And he’s always shivering, even though it’s not cold.

Nicky stays with him almost the whole time. Joe’s not exactly good company, given that he sleeps half the time, but Nicky stays. Joe is grateful. This would be far more miserable if he had to do it alone.

The doctor had assured him that he was going to survive, and said that he just needed to let the remainders of the poison leave his system. Which is why he feels like shit.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asks.

Nicky looks up from his book. “Do what?”

“Stay here all the time. With me. We’re in _Cairo_. I can think of at least three other things you could be doing.”

“Like…”

“Getting your money stolen because you’re too nice.”

Nicky, unable to actually kick Joe, kicks the bedpost instead. Joe laughs.

“I mean it, though. There are so many better things you could be doing.”

Nicky tilts his head thoughtfully. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t want to do them without you.”

There it is again. Nicky saying that kind of thing so sincerely, as if he can’t imagine it any other way. It’s really not fair, because Nicky is just _like that_ , but it gives Joe hope every time.

“Did the box make it out okay?”

Nicky nods. 

“Good.” He stares up at the ceiling. After so long in this room, he could really do with a change of scenery. “I don’t know if I want to give it to Merrick.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t feel right. I don’t know.”

“We don’t really have a choice,” Nicky reminds him. “The photos-”

“I know, I know.” He sighs. “You said this thing was cursed, right?”

“Apparently.” Nicky shrugs. “I haven’t exactly tested it.”

“Merrick asked us to find a jar that’s supposed to be cursed and kills anyone who opens it.”

“Threatened us into finding it,” Nicky corrects.

“Threatened.”

“We got it, didn’t we?”

“I know we got it, I just want to know _why_.”

* * *

A few days later, Joe says, “I want to get up.”

Nicky looks up. “Are you sure?”

“It’s been _days._ I’m bored. Not that I don’t like talking to you, but I’m beginning to hate this room. And I think most of the poison is gone, anyway.”

“Your leg-”

“It’ll be fine.”

“But what if-”

“Come _on_ , Nicky,” Joe whines. “I’ll be okay.”

Nicky sighs, then stands up. 

Joe pushes himself up so he’s sitting up straight, and then slowly begins to turn. He winces, and Nicky steps forward to help, but Joe waves him away. “I can do this.”

He manages, after a few minutes, to get his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet now touching the floor. 

He tries to stand up, and then falls right back down. Nicky watches, concerned.

“Okay. Maybe I could use a hand.”

Carefully, Nicky helps Joe stand up, sliding his arm around Joe’s waist to steady him.

“Okay?” he asks.

Joe smiles. “Okay.”

He takes one step forward. Then another, wincing and leaning heavily on Nicky as he does so. And another.

Eventually, they make it out of the bedroom and over to one of the chairs in the sitting room. Andy doesn’t even look up from her book as Joe sits down slowly, wincing as he does so. 

“So, you’re up,” Andy says.

“No, I’m not,” Joe says, deadpan. “You’re hallucinating.”

“That would explain a lot. The real you is _much_ more annoying.”

Joe looks around, presumably for something to throw at Andy, finds nothing, and resorts to sticking his tongue out instead. Nicky has to try very hard not to laugh.

“When are we going home?” Joe asks.

Andy finally looks up. “You think you’re ready to travel?”

“I don’t want to stay any longer than necessary. If we don’t meet with Merrick before the deadline, he turns us all in.”

“I know about the deadline. I asked if you were ready to travel.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re still hurt. We’re staying for at least three more days.”

“Andy-”

“That’s final, Joe. We’ll make it in time, but you need to give yourself time to heal.”

Andy gives him a _look_ , and Joe decides that protesting further is pointless.

* * *

Another few days, and they’re _finally_ ready to leave.

Joe almost feels bad. In almost any other circumstance, he’d want to stay as long as possible, but he really just wants to go home. They weren’t supposed to be in Cairo for this long, and they don’t have long left until they have to give the jar to Merrick.

His leg still hurts, but it’s easier to walk now. He still has to lean on Nicky, occasionally, but Nicky doesn’t seem to mind. He also tires frustratingly easily.

The jar is in his satchel, and he can feel it resting against his hip. They can’t risk it getting damaged, so it’s riding in the cabin with them so they can keep an eye on it.

Call him superstitious, but he’ll be glad when the thing is gone.

“Next time you visit had better not be on business again,” Lykon says. 

“You could come stay with us,” Joe points out.

Lykon laughs. “In _London_? Absolutely not. Too cold.”

Joe shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“We’ll be back,” Andy says. “Quynh misses you.”

“I will be holding you to that.”

“I’m sure you will.”

They stop walking. The plane, with M E R R I C K in large black letters on the side, is waiting for them.

“Well, then,” Lykon says. “Until we meet again.”

He hugs Andy, then Joe. Then Nicky and Nile too, because Lykon has always been affectionate like that.

“You guys go ahead,” Andy says, nodding to Joe, Nicky and Nile. “I’ll catch up.”

Getting up the stairs into the plane is frustratingly difficult, but he manages it after ten minutes. He sits down by the window, Nicky beside him. He’s already tired, and they only drove from Lykon’s to the airport. 

This is _really_ frustrating.

Andy gets on the plane right as the cabin crew are starting to look worried and drops into the seat beside Nile. 

“Everyone okay?” she asks, looking meaningfully at Joe.

Joe nods.

“Good.” 

With that, Andy leans back, closes her eyes, and falls asleep.

Nile follows not long after.

Joe keeps his foot hooked protectively over the satchel. He’s exhausted, but he doesn’t want anyone going through the bag while he’s asleep. He almost died for this jar, and nobody’s taking it from him until he can get those photos.

Nicky touches his arm lightly. “Are you okay?” he asks softly in Italian.

Joe debates saying he’s fine, but Nicky knows him too well. “Tired,” he responds.

“Then go to sleep.”

“I can’t. The jar-”

“Is safe.”

“But if I’m asleep, someone could…” He realises just how ridiculous this sounds, and stops. “Sorry.”

“I will watch the jar.” Nicky takes his hand and squeezes gently. “You don’t need to worry.”

He wants to protest, but he’s just so _tired_. So instead, he nods, and lets his head drop onto Nicky’s shoulder.

“I have you,” Nicky says softly. “Go to sleep, Joe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they're on their way home!  
> next chapter: the inevitable meeting with copley!


	9. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you thinking?” Nile asks Joe.
> 
> “I’m not giving this thing to Merrick. I don’t know what he wants with it, and I don’t want to find out. It’s too dangerous.”  
> -  
> Nicky, Joe, Andy and Nile return home, and plans are made.

“Joe. Wake up.”

He blinks the sleep from his eyes and sits up. Predictably, it's raining outside.

_There you are, London._

He remembers the jar, and looks around for his satchel in a moment of panic. 

“Here,” Nicky says, tapping it lightly with his foot. 

Joe relaxes and watches as they make their descent onto the runway. The hard part is done, and they’re home safe.

Quýnh is waiting in the car for them when they leave the airport. Joe, still not entirely awake, waves at her.

“You’re limping,” she says the second the door opens.

“I missed you too,” Andy says as she climbs in the passenger seat.

Quýnh watches in the rearview mirror as Joe gets in, wincing as he does so. “Who did this?”

Her knuckles are white as she grips the steering wheel. Andy reaches over and gently takes her hand, murmuring something in Vietnamese. Quýnh relaxes, but only a little.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” Joe says. It’s not entirely a lie: he’d slept for most of the flight, and the only thing that hurts is his leg. Which is an improvement.

“You at least got the box?”

“It’s a jar,” Joe corrects, “but yes.”

Quýnh mutters something else in Vietnamese. By Andy’s amused expression, and Quýnh’s tone, Joe guesses she’s cursing everyone from Merrick to the ancient Egyptians who’d buried the thing in the first place.

Quýnh starts the engine, and they pull out of the parking lot.

Joe rests his forehead on the window and watches the raindrops chase each other down the glass until they reach the bottom.

* * *

Andy and Quýnh’s house, to Joe, has always been home.

He’s always hated being alone, and on the nights where it all became too much, he came here. Andy and Quýnh never questioned it, just let him stay with them. Then they got Booker, then Nile. Then Nicky. On any given day, there’s usually one of them there, if not all. Andy pretends to complain, but Joe knows she loves them all.

Now, standing in the living room, surrounded by his family, Joe could cry. 

He didn’t realise how much he needed to be _home_.

“Are you okay?” Nicky asks softly in Arabic. 

“Just… happy to be home.”

Nicky squeezes his hand and steps past him into the kitchen.

Nile collapses into one of the chairs and closes her eyes. “Next time we go to Cairo, let’s avoid the cursed jars.”

“Noted.” Joe sits down slowly. 

“Oh, you’re still alive,” Booker says, walking in. 

“You could try to sound at least a little glad, Book,” Joe responds.

“Hooray, you’re still alive,” Booker says flatly. “Better?”

“One more time, for good measure.”

“I retract my earlier sentiment. You are the worst.”

“Aw, love you too.”

“Let’s see the thing, then.”

Joe reaches into his satchel and pulls out the jar, setting it down on the table. Booker reaches for it.

“ _Don’t_ open it,” Joe says. “I mean it, Book.”

Booker holds up both hands. “Okay, okay.”

“You think you can make a fake?” he asks.

Andy looks up sharply.

Booker shrugs. “Maybe. It might take me a few days.”

“What are you thinking?” Nile asks Joe.

“I’m not giving this thing to Merrick. I don’t know what he wants with it, and I don’t want to find out. It’s too dangerous.”

“The pictures,” Nicky reminds him, appearing in the doorway.

“I know. That’s why I want the fake. He’ll give us the pictures, we destroy them before he realises it’s not real.”

“It’s risky,” Andy says. “What will we do with the actual jar?”

“We’ll figure that out when we get to it.”

“I can probably do it in time,” Booker says. “You’re meeting with Copley…”

“In four days,” Nicky says. 

“I can do it.”

“You’re sure about this?” Andy asks Joe.

“Absolutely.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

* * *

Joe bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet impatiently.

“He’s late,” Nicky mutters.

“Or he’s keeping us waiting. You know, for fun.”

They’re waiting for Copley again, and Joe is really getting tired of it.

“You’d think he’d at least have the decency to be on time. Given the _blackmail_ ,” Joe says.

“Apologies for the wait, gentlemen,” Copley says as he enters the room. “Please, follow me.”

Copley leads them into his office and closes the door behind them.

The room is small, a desk and chair set in front of a window with the curtains drawn, two more chairs in front of the desk, a bookshelf on one wall. There’s a small cactus on the corner of the desk. Copley sits down, and motions for them to do the same.

“I trust you obtained the item without any trouble.”

“We got it fine,” Joe says. “Give us the photos.”

They’d decided on the way there not to tell Copley about Joe’s injury: Nicky didn’t want to give them any possible vulnerabilities, and Andy had agreed. Pretending to be fine is difficult, but it seems to be working.

“Let me see the box.”

“Jar,” Joe mutters in Arabic. Nicky smiles almost imperceptibly.

Joe reaches into his satchel, pulls out Booker’s fake, and sets it down on Copley’s desk.

“Incredible,” Copley breathes.

It’s really not, in Joe’s honest opinion. It’s a simple, undecorated clay jar, of the kind that would be decidedly uninteresting if it wasn’t cursed. 

“The photos, Copley,” Joe says. He’s _really_ beginning to lose his patience, and his leg hurts, and he really just wants to go home so this can all be over.

“Of course.” Copley slides a white envelope across the desk. “This is the last of them.”

“It had better be.” Joe picks up the envelope and tucks it into his satchel. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never want to see you again.”

“Believe me, I’m just the messenger. I truly admire your work, and I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“You know, it actually doesn’t,” Joe snaps, before getting up and leaving the room, Nicky close behind him.

* * *

“It’s done,” Joe announces, walking in the front door.

From the couch, Nile cheers, and Booker raises his glass.

“You have the photos?” Andy asks.

“Yep.” Joe pulls the envelope from his satchel and tosses it onto the table. 

“All of them?”

“That’s what Copley said.”

“Ah, yes. The incredibly trustworthy man who happens to be blackmailing you,” Booker says. 

Joe gives him a _look_. “We made a deal.”

“Deals can be broken,” Quýnh calls from the kitchen. “Nico, come help me with this.”

Andy turns the envelope upside down and the pictures fall from it, fluttering onto the table like falling petals. She spreads them across the table, turning some over. 

“Stay here for a few days,” she suggests, almost absentmindedly.

“What?”

“You heard me. It won’t be for long.”

“Why?”

She looks up at him. “Because you’re still injured and your apartment is on the fourth floor, and the elevator is usually out of order. And you live alone, and we can’t rule out the possibility that Merrick will realise it’s a fake, and he’ll come after you if he does. I want to know you’ll be safe. You and Nicky both.”

Sometimes, despite all the jokes and eye-rolling, it’s clear to Joe that Andy really does care about them. All of them.

“Quýnh okay with that?”

“She loves it when Nicky’s here. You, I’m not so sure about.”

Joe rolls his eyes and smiles. 

* * *

“I should go home,” Nicky says three days later.

“Tired of us already, Nico?” Quýnh teases.

Nicky smiles. “Never. But I have work, and I don’t want to intrude.”

“We don’t mind you being here, Nicky,” Andy says, and Quýnh nods in agreement. 

“I know. But I’m not the one Merrick will go after.” He looks meaningfully at Joe. 

“We won’t keep you here. If you want to go, then you can go,” Andy tells him.

And Joe _knows_ everything should be fine. But he can’t help thinking.

_What if Merrick finds out? What if he goes after Nicky? What if he’s alone, and there’s too many of them, and-_

“What about-” Joe starts, but is immediately cut off.

“ _No_ ,” Andy and Quýnh say in unison.

“You’re still injured, Joe,” Quýnh says. 

“But-”

“ _Yusuf_ ,” Andy says, in _that_ voice, the one that tells him that she won’t change her mind.

“At least let me come with you,” he says. 

“Okay,” Nicky says.

The air helps to clear his head, and Nicky, as always, is a steadying presence beside him.

“You’re walking better,” Nicky remarks. 

“Haven’t had much else to do for the past three days.”

Nicky smiles.

“Promise me you’ll be okay,” Joe blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Merrick. Because they know who you are and they might know where you live and this whole situation is crazy and-”

“Joe.” Nicky touches his shoulder. “I am okay. I will be okay.”

“Check in with us in a few days?” He knows he’s being clingy, he’s being unreasonable, but he doesn’t know what he’ll do if anything happens to Nicky.

Nicky just smiles again, gently. “Of course.”

They come to a stop outside Nicky’s apartment building, and Joe looks down at his feet.

“I’ll see you soon,” Nicky says. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

_Two days later_

There is an intruder in Nicky’s apartment.

The door is ajar, and he can hear someone shuffling around as he slips inside as quietly as possible.

He’s only been home for two days, for heaven’s sake, and it’s been a long day. He really doesn’t want to deal with this.

“Joe?” he asks, uncertainly, because Joe has a habit of sneaking (or breaking) into his apartment. The first time he’d done it, he’d been trying to return Nicky’s jacket. The second, he’d said he was bored. The third time, Nicky handed him a key and told him to let himself in the legal way.

Since then, it had become a routine. After a while, Nicky had been coming home to find Joe reading, or attempting to cook (badly), or sketching, more often than not. Sometimes Joe would stay over, other times he wouldn’t.

(Nicky knows that it’s mostly because Joe hates being alone more than anything else. And Nicky doesn’t mind the company.)

(He doesn’t much like being alone, either.)

This intruder isn’t Joe, though, because whoever it is stills at the sound of Nicky’s voice. Joe always announces himself fairly loudly, and usually soon after Nicky walks in.

 _Okay_.

There is a gun in the bedroom, but he cannot easily get to it. However, there are knives in the kitchen, which is probably his best chance.

_Go._

He has the advantage. They are in his apartment. He knows his way around better than they do.

What he isn’t expecting is the man in the kitchen.

He freezes in the doorway, but it’s too late: he’s already been seen.

“There you are,” a voice says behind him. There are two, maybe more. He fails to see how he’s getting out of this.

“Are you going to make this easy, or are we going to have to restrain you?” the voice behind him asks.

Nicky inhales. Exhales.

Then he lunges for the knife.

He knows before he moves that it’s unlikely he’ll succeed. But he has to try.

His fingers just brush the handle before he’s being pulled back by the man behind him, an arm around his neck. He thrashes violently, desperately trying to break free, but it’s no use. The man presses a cloth over his mouth and nose.

Nicky takes two breaths and knows no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops again  
> next chapter: nicky and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day


	10. The Questioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe is safe. They do not know where he is, he reminds himself when they're gone.
> 
> Nicky will do everything he can to keep it that way.

Nicky wakes, and he is tied to a chair.

Which is a first.

“He’s awake.”

He knows that voice. _The man who knocked him out_.

“Thank you, Keane.” This is a new voice.

The second man steps forward into the light. He wears a light grey suit, and the only thing Nicky can think of to describe his appearance is that he looks remarkably like a weasel.

“Nicoló di Genova, I presume?” the weasel says. His pronunciation is horrible.

Nicky doesn’t respond.

“You’re a difficult man to track down.”

He still doesn’t respond.

“My name is Steven Merrick. I believe we have some things to discuss.”

So this is the one who is blackmailing them. Nicky has some _things_ to discuss with Merrick as well.

Merrick sighs in frustration at Nicky’s lack of response. “I am a reasonable man. All I want is for you to tell me where the box is, or where Mr Al-Kaysani is hiding.”

 _They don’t know where Joe is_.

And Nicky won’t tell them.

“Go fuck yourself,” Nicky says mildly.

Merrick’s face contorts with rage. “Keane.”

The other man - Keane - steps forward with a sadistic smile, and punches Nicky in the face.

Pain explodes through the right side of his face, and he clenches his jaw against the pain.

Keane hits him again. And again. And again, until he can taste blood and his vision is going fuzzy.

“Enough,” Merrick says. 

Keane, ever the obedient dog, steps back.

“Mr di Genova, I’m sure you will understand that you will save yourself a lot of unnecessary pain if you simply cooperate.”

Nicky spits blood onto the floor and does not say a word.

Merrick sighs in frustration. “Keep him alive. But aside from that, do what you need to. I want that bloody box.”

 _It’s a jar_ , Nicky thinks as Merrick leaves.

 _Joe is safe. They do not know where he is_ , he reminds himself when they're gone.

Nicky will do everything he can to keep it that way.

* * *

It lasts for three days.

Until, finally, Merrick returns.

“I hear you’ve been extremely uncooperative,” he says.

Nicky blinks innocently, as if to say _me? Never._

“I think it’s time to try something different.”

He doesn’t like the sound of that.

“Would you say your friend would recognise your handwriting?”

Oh, no.

This is exactly what Nicky had hoped wouldn’t happen. He can control what he says, but if they tell Joe where he is, Nicky knows he’ll come.

He also knows that Joe will give them the jar if he thinks it’ll help Nicky.

And that _cannot_ happen.

“Because I have a feeling,” Merrick continues, “that if we tell him where you are, he’ll come running. Is that right?”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Nicky says. It’s the first time he’s spoken in three days. 

“Oh, so you do speak,” Merrick says, looking at him disdainfully. 

“Hit a nerve, hm?” Keane asks. “Don’t want us to hurt your _friend_?” He crosses the room and crouches in front of Nicky, _far_ too close for comfort. “Give us what we want, and we might even leave him alone.”

Nicky, to Keane’s apparent surprise, smiles.

Then he headbutts Keane. Hard.

Keane stumbles back, his hand flying to his nose. Nicky sees blood. _Good_.

“You little _shit_ ,” he snaps, starting forward, but Merrick grabs his arm to pull him back. 

“Hurt him,” Nicky says calmly, “and I will tear you to pieces.”

He sees a brief flash of fear in Merrick’s eyes, and smiles to himself as they leave the room.

* * *

 _Nicky didn’t check in_.

Not today, not the day after.

“Maybe he forgot,” Nile had suggested, but he wouldn’t forget. Not something like this, knowing Joe as well as he does.

Which is why Joe is standing outside Nicky’s apartment, tapping his foot as he waits for Nicky to answer.

“Dammit, Nicky,” he mutters, reaching into his jacket for his key, “you had better be asleep or out or something.”

He fumbles with the key in the lock. His hands are shaking.

_Please, please, please be okay._

“Nicky?” he calls, pushing open the door. “You home? Nicoló?”

It’s almost 10pm. Nicky works late sometimes, but never this late. 

Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe it was a long day.

Joe glances around the living room for a brief second, establishes that Nicky isn’t there, and moves on. Kitchen, bedroom, even bathroom. No Nicky.

_Where are you, Nicoló?_

“Nicoló?” he calls again, more panicked this time. “Where are you?” 

He looks again, as if somehow he’s just missed him, as if he’ll appear in one of the rooms if he checks again.

It’s on the third sweep that he sees a white envelope sitting neatly on one of the counters in the kitchen.

He picks it up and turns it over. Unmarked. He opens it.

_Mr al-Kaysani. I am beginning to lose patience with you. Bring me the item you obtained for me and I will return Mr di Genova to you alive. You will meet with Copley at this address on Thursday at nine am. Alone._

_For your sake and di Genova’s, I hope you make the correct decision._

Below that is the address, but Joe doesn’t register it. His hand is shaking. He sets the paper down, maybe. He isn’t sure.

There is a single word running through his mind. _Alive, alive, alive._

If he doesn’t return the box-

 _What will Merrick_ do?

He stumbles out of the apartment somehow, only just remembering to lock the door on his way out.

* * *

Andy’s jaw clenches as she reads the letter. When she’s done, she hands it to Quýnh without a word.

“I should have known something like this would happen,” she mutters. Her expression borders on murderous. 

“It says I have to go alone,” Joe says. He’s managed to calm himself down enough to speak steadily.

“Absolutely not,” Andy says. 

“But the letter-”

“I am _not_ risking you too, Joe.”

“And I’m not risking Nicky getting hurt. If I don’t follow the terms, who knows what they’ll do to him. Who knows what they’re _already_ doing to him.”

“Nico’s a fighter,” Quýnh says. “He can look after himself.”

“They already overpowered him once, evidently.”

“What’s going on?” Nile asks, stepping inside. 

“Merrick has Nicky,” Andy says.

“ _What_?”

Andy hands her the letter, and Nile reads it with wide eyes.

“We’re going to get him, right? We can’t just leave him there.”

“Merrick wants Joe alone, which is _not_ happening,” Andy says.

“But if we all go, he could-”

“I need some air,” Joe announces, and walks out.

The city is almost silent at this time of night. It’s almost midnight, and the cool air helps to clear his head.

But Nicky isn’t here. Nicky, who always knows exactly when Joe is spiralling and exactly what he needs and is a steadying presence even on the worst days. Nicky, who could be going through any number of things right now, and Joe can’t help feeling like it’s his fault. He was the one who wanted to give Merrick the fake, after all. Maybe he should have insisted on Nicky staying.

He pulls his sketchbook from his pocket, the small one he always keeps in his jacket, and starts to draw. 

The pages of this particular sketchbook is covered with sketches of the artefacts he’s stolen - well, relocated - in the last year. And Nicky, standing in the gallery, studying another ancient sword intently, smiling at Joe over his shoulder. 

This drawing, though, is simple: just the outline of a scimitar, one Nicky had persuaded him to come look at a few months ago, that he’d sketched over and over until he could do it from memory. It’s more of a doodle than anything else, but the process is grounding. 

He takes a deep breath. 

He _will_ get Nicky back.

* * *

He’s never been more grateful that Andy is a late sleeper.

He usually is, too, but he didn’t sleep well last night, for obvious reasons. So he rises with the dawn and moves as quietly as he can through the house. 

Maybe Andy won’t let him go alone. So he won’t let her stop him.

“Where are you going?” Quýnh asks.

In all his worrying about Andy, he’d forgotten that Quýnh is very much _not_ a late sleeper.

“I…” He doesn’t have a good excuse. 

“You’re going to find Nico,” she says. 

“I have to,” is all he can say to defend himself. “Andy won’t let me go alone, and I can’t go with anyone else.”

Quýnh tilts her head to the side and contemplates him, and Joe is definitely screwed.

Then, she gets up. “Let’s go, then.”

“You can’t-”

“I won’t come with you. I will drive you there, and you will go in alone. And if I think something’s wrong, I’m coming in to get you. Okay?”

Joe has the sense he doesn’t have a choice. “Okay.”

“Good. I’m going to leave a note for Andy. Go get in the car.”

“She won’t-”

“She’ll understand. If she could, she’d go storming in there and do whatever she needed to to get Nico out.”

He understands the feeling.

“Thank you,” he says.

Quýnh smiles. “Don’t mention it.”

* * *

They stop outside the building where Copley works, and presumably where Merrick has Nicky. 

“I’ll meet you at the usual place at two pm,” Quynh says. “And I’m calling Andy if you don’t show up.”

“Will five hours be enough?”

“It had better be.” Quýnh reaches into her coat and pulls out a small dagger. “Take that with you.”

“Where did you-”

“Not important right now. Keep it hidden. Just in case.”

“Thank you again,” he says.

“Don’t thank me. Just bring Nico home.”

He nods. Quýnh takes his hand and squeezes it. He takes a deep breath and gets out of the car.

Quýnh drives away, and Joe is alone, standing on the sidewalk outside the building.

 _Bring Nico home_.

He enters the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops this chapter and runs*  
> next chapter: the final showdown!! *off-key kazoo*


	11. The Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You could have just sent a letter or something,” Joe says, and he’s only half joking. “You didn’t need to do this.”
> 
> “I needed to ensure that you wouldn’t attempt to double cross me again,” Merrick says. “Going after him seemed like the best way to do that. It’s really nothing personal.”
> 
> Joe doesn’t think he’s ever hated someone more in his life.  
> -  
> Joe confronts Merrick.

For the first time ever, Copley doesn’t keep him waiting.

He’s ushered directly into the office, where Copley is sitting behind the desk.

“Where’s Nicky?” he asks immediately.

“Do you have the box?” Copley asks.

“I’m not giving it to you until I see he’s okay.”

They stare each other down for a beat before Copley sighs and looks away. “For my part, I am sorry. I did not want this to happen.”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted, does it?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. But I never thought it would go this far. Believe me.”

“Then fix it by taking me to Nicky.”

Copley gestures to a door behind him that Joe had assumed was a cupboard. “Of course. This way.” 

The corridor behind the door is starkly different from the rest of the building. It’s darker, dirtier, the sort of place you conduct business you don’t want people to know about.

Copley leads him through the building and up two flights of stairs to another door, and Joe does his best to memorise the route. 

Behind the door is another office, larger and nicer than Copley’s, with a large window looking out on the city.

Before the window, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, is a man who must be Merrick.

He turns around, and immediately snaps at Copley. “You didn’t bloody blindfold him?”

“I wasn’t aware you wanted me to,” Copley says coolly.

Merrick pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Pat him down, please.”

 _Oh, no_.

“I wasn’t aware this was that kind of situation,” Joe says, holding out his arms. 

“You can never be too careful.”

Joe knows Copley’s found the knife. He hadn’t hidden it carefully, hadn’t thought he’d need to. He’s certain that any minute Copley will say something, and then who knows what will happen? There was nothing in the letter about coming unarmed, but Merrick doesn’t seem like the sort of person who’d just let that slide.

But to Joe’s surprise, Copley simply steps back. “He’s clear.”

Merrick laughs. “You _are_ desperate.”

It takes a monumental effort to keep his expression neutral. “Where’s Nicky?”

Merrick tilts his head, and Copley leaves the room through a door to Merrick’s right.

“You could have just sent a letter or something,” Joe says, and he’s only half joking. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I needed to ensure that you wouldn’t attempt to double cross me again,” Merrick says. “Going after him seemed like the best way to do that. It’s really nothing personal.”

Joe doesn’t think he’s ever hated someone more in his life.

Before he can say anything, the door opens, and Copley reenters. Behind him another man, one Joe doesn’t recognise.

And _Nicky_.

He’s bruised and there’s blood trailing down one side of his face and his eyes go wide when he sees Joe and Joe’s never been so happy to see him in all the time they’ve known each other.

Joe forces himself to look back at Merrick.

“You said he’d be unharmed,” Joe says. 

“I said he’d be _alive_. There’s a difference. He’s breathing, isn’t he?”

Nicky’s hands are tied behind his back. The man behind him forces him to his knees.

“Yusuf,” Nicky says. His voice is weak, and Joe doesn’t want to know why.

“Quiet,” the man holding him mutters. 

“The box, please, Mr al-Kaysani,” Merrick snaps. 

“Are you okay?” he asks Nicky in Italian.

Nicky responds in Arabic. “Don’t give it to him.”

“Keane.” Merrick’s voice rings through the room, and the man holding Nicky - Keane - draws a knife from his belt and holds it to Nicky’s throat.

“The box, _now_ ,” Merrick insists, “or he dies.”

“This wasn’t the deal-”

“The bloody deal doesn’t matter, does it?”

Blood beads on the edge of Keane’s knife, and Nicky winces.

Copley steps forward. “Mr Merrick-”

“Don’t start now, Copley-”

“Yusuf, don’t give it to him-”

“Be _quiet_ -”

“Enough!” Merrick shouts. He pulls a gun from underneath his desk and points it at Nicky’s head. “Not another _word_ from you, I think.”

Joe can’t move.

“I am out of patience with you,” he says. “The box. _Now_.”

“Okay.” Joe reaches into his satchel and takes out the jar. “Just don’t hurt him.”

“On the desk.”

“No,” Nicky whispers.

“Shut _up_ ,” Keane hisses.

Joe sets the jar on the desk, and Merrick smiles. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

For a horrible second, Joe thinks Merrick is going to shoot Nicky anyway. But then he sets down the gun, and Joe can breathe a little easier.

“Copley, find the rest of the guards, please. Keane, get him out of here.”

“What?” Joe asks.

Keane hauls Nicky to his feet and Joe wants to scream. 

“This wasn’t the deal,” he manages instead.

“I think we’ve established by now that the deal is off. And now, not only do I have the box, I have both of you. I’m sure the authorities will be very grateful to me for handing you both in.”

Copley returns with at least four others, and Joe knows he can’t get out of this alone. He doesn’t even try to struggle as one of them ties his hands behind his back.

“You don’t have the evidence anymore.”

“Perhaps not.” Merrick shrugs. “It’s my word against yours. I know people who can put you away for a very long time.”

Joe has definitely never hated anyone more in his life.

All he can do, however, is let them lead him away.

* * *

His sole relief is that Merrick obviously wasn’t prepared for this, because what they lead him to is essentially a storage closet. 

Which gives him some hope, however small, that he’ll be able to find Nicky and get out of this.

One of the guards hauls open the door and shoves him inside. Joe stumbles, and it sends a twinge of pain racing through his leg. And then he looks up.

And Nicky is _there_. In front of him. Joe hears the door slam shut, but it doesn’t matter, because Nicky is there.

Joe, too tired to stand up anymore, sinks to the floor.

Nicky shuffles over, as much as he can with his hands and ankles bound. “Are you okay?”

Joe manages to laugh. “I will be.”

What he really wants to do right now is completely collapse, but he can’t yet.

“There’s a knife in my jacket,” he says quickly in Arabic, in case anyone is listening.”The ropes-”

It’s barely an explanation, but Nicky seems to understand. 

It takes a while, and a lot of cursing in at least five languages before Nicky has the knife and can cut through Joe’s bindings. It’s an awkward position: they’re sitting back to back, Joe with his wrists as far apart as they’ll go because Nicky can’t see him and could cut him accidentally.

Not that Joe thinks he would. He trusts Nicky with his life.

The ropes snap. Joe flexes his wrists before turning to begin working on Nicky’s bindings. Hands first, then ankles.

And then it’s done. And they’re free.

And Joe’s just so _tired_.

It must show on his face, because Nicky stops, and just looks at him for a moment.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. 

Joe- well.

Joe falls apart.

He lets out a small sob and wraps his arms around Nicky, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder, and Nicky holds him just as tightly, running his fingers through Joe’s hair.

“I’m here,” he says gently. “I am here, Yusuf, and we are okay. I promise.”

They need to go. But he’s not ready just yet.

He pulls back after a few moments but not too far, bringing his hand up to touch the cut at Nicky’s temple. “They hurt you.”

“They wanted to know where you were. I couldn’t tell them.”

“I could have handled it.”

“I couldn’t let them hurt you too. And besides, it wasn’t so bad. One of them - Keane - tried to get too close.” Nicky smiles, wickedly. “I broke his nose.”

That gets Joe to smile too. Nicky touches their foreheads together for the briefest of moments, a silent _we’re okay, I’m here, you’re okay_.

Then he gets up and steps back.

 _Time to go_.

“Is your leg okay?” Nicky asks, making a beeline for the boxes in the back corner of the room. 

“Not exactly, but it’ll be okay. What’s your plan?”

“What makes you think I have a plan?”

“I know you haven’t been sitting here for however many days doing nothing.”

“Three days,” Nicky says absently. “And yes, I have some vague idea. But I wasn’t expecting Merrick to keep us both here.”

“Neither was I.”

Nicky pulls the lid off one of the boxes and studies the contents.

“Merrick has the jar,” Joe says.

Nicky stills. “He does.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t just-”

Nicky turns to look at him. “I’m not angry at you, Joe. I’m angry at Merrick for putting you in that position, but not you.”

Joe isn’t sure what to say, so he just nods.

Nicky reaches into the box and pulls out a _longsword_. An actual longsword.

“Did you know that was there?” Joe asks.

Nicky shrugs. “I had a hunch.”

“So this is where Merrick keeps all his ill-gotten artifacts, I presume.”

“As far as I can tell.”

“You know how to use that thing?” 

“You don’t know everything about me.”

“Apparently not.”

Nicky sets the sword aside before reaching into the box again and pulling out a familiar-shaped blade. “Take this.”

It’s a scimitar.

Joe can’t help laughing. “This is what we’re going with.”

“You have a better idea?” 

“No. No, I do not.”

“Good. Keane will probably come in eventually. We knock him out and get out of here.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“You trust me?”

Joe nods. “Of course.”

“Good. Put your hands behind your back. We want him to think we’re still tied so he closes the door.”

It doesn’t take long before the door opens, and Keane walks in. Nicky waits for him to close the door behind him, and then he moves.

Before Keane can react, Nicky sweeps his legs out from under him and he collapses to the floor. Joe goes for his gun, snatching it away so Keane can’t reach for it, and kicks the longsword across the floor to Nicky. Nicky grabs it and hits Keane over the head with the hilt, hard enough to knock him out.

“He’s out?” Joe asks.

Nicky nods and pushes Keane’s unconscious form away. 

“How long til they notice, do you think?”

“No idea. I don’t want to stick around to find out.”

“Fair enough.” 

Nicky gets to his feet and Joe follows suit, picking up the scimitar, and briefly wondering when his life got to this point.

 _Okay. They can do this_.

“Stay behind me,” Nicky says, picking up Keane’s gun as well. “There are guards, and they will be armed.”

“But what if you-” He can’t make himself say it.

“I’ll be okay. And you’re still injured. Anyway, Merrick’s not ready for us. We’ll be okay.”

Joe can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go horribly wrong.

_What if it does? What if they don’t make it out?_

“If there’s a chance that- that we don’t-” Joe takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Nicky doesn’t say anything for a long while, just looks at him, his expression unreadable even to Joe.

“We are both going to get out of this alive, Yusuf,” he says finally. “I promise.”

Somehow, it’s exactly what Joe needed to hear.

He holds out his hand. “Together, then?”

Nicky takes it and smiles. “Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Box Of Swords for plot convenience because I wanted them to wield swords.  
> next chapter: the escape!!


	12. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s strangely like a job. Move quickly, avoid security, don’t run and don’t get caught. He can almost hear Andy’s voice in his head.
> 
> Except, this time, Nicky goes first.  
> -  
> Joe and Nicky escape Merrick.

Nicky opens the door carefully and looks up and down the hallway. Surprisingly, there’s nobody there, and he hopes their good luck will last long enough to get them out of here.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs in Italian. “It’s clear.”

It’s strangely like a job. Move quickly, avoid security, don’t run and don’t get caught. He can almost hear Andy’s voice in his head.

Except, this time, Nicky goes first.

He glances back at Joe as they make their way through the corridor. Joe’s limping, but he’s still moving quickly. 

Nicky hears footsteps, far too close for comfort, coming around the corner. He looks around for somewhere to hide, sees what looks like a storage closet, yanks the door open and pulls Joe inside.

“This situation seems familiar,” Joe says. 

“It’s almost as if this has happened before,” Nicky responds.

Joe closes his eyes, and leans against the wall. He’s exhausted, Nicky can tell. Despite being mostly better, he's still feeling the effects of the poison.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Your leg?”

“It hurts.” He winces. “Quite a lot, actually. But there’s not a whole lot we can do about it.”

“Rest while you can.”

Nicky listens, waiting for the footsteps to subside, until he’s certain the guard is gone.

“We should go,” he says. Joe nods, but doesn’t open his eyes. “Come on.”

“Okay.”

Nicky opens the door, and they continue.

They manage to make it a little further before Nicky hears a shout behind them, and swears under his breath.

He turns, assessing the situation, and Joe steps back to stand beside him. The guard has what looks like an extendable baton strapped to his back, and a gun. He cannot afford to slip up.

“I’ll handle this,” Nicky says in Italian.

Joe nods, almost imperceptibly.

Nicky moves.

The guard on the right lifts his gun and fires, the bullet barely missing Nicky by an inch. Nicky grabs his wrist and forces him to aim at the sky right as he fires again, and then wrenches the gun from his hand. He steps back and drops the gun, then kicks it behind him.

The guard reaches for his baton and Nicky almost smiles.

 _So that’s what we’re doing_.

Nicky draws his sword - because he has a _sword_ now - and raises it, as the guard lifts his baton.

The guard strikes first, swinging it over his head with both hands. Nicky parries easily, so their blades - well, his blade and the guard’s baton - are locked between them.

Then Nicky drives his knee into the guard’s stomach.

The guard drops his baton and stumbles back, doubling over. Nicky doesn’t waste any time, just hits him in the head with his sword hilt and watches him slump to the ground, unconscious.

“That was kind of incredible,” Joe says as they continue walking.

Nicky shrugs. “I didn’t do much.”

“You fought that guy _with a sword_.”

“Only briefly.”

“‘Only briefly,’ he says,” Joe echoes.

Nicky elbows him. Lightly.

Another guard rounds the corner in front of them, and Nicky doesn’t even have time to react before Joe draws the scimitar Nicky had handed him and is upon the guard in a few seconds.

This guard doesn’t seem to have a gun, but he reaches for the same kind of baton the other had. Joe disarms him with a flick of the wrist and backs the guard into the wall.

“Would you mind directing us to the exit?” Joe says with a smile.

“Mr al-Kaysani?”

Copley is standing behind them, staring, stunned, at Joe.

“Oh, hello,” Joe says, stepping back from the man against the wall. 

The guard makes as if to step towards Joe, but Nicky knocks him out before he has a chance. Joe doesn’t even flinch. 

“How did you two-”

“That’s not something you need to worry about,” Joe says coolly. “Get us out of here.”

“I don’t think-”

“You let me keep the knife, didn’t you? It’s your fault we’re here. So make this right.”

Copley looks like he’s going to protest, but then he meets Nicky’s eyes and looks away almost immediately, nodding.

“Follow me. There’s a back entrance you can use, but quickly, before any more guards arrive.”

Copley leads them through the building, up one flight of stairs, and _out_.

They’re free.

Nicky takes a deep breath. He hasn’t been outside in days.

“Goodbye again, Copley, and I _really_ don’t want to see you again this time,” Joe says. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Copley responds.

“But thank you. For this. Come on, Nicky.”

Copley nods and reenters the building, and Joe and Nicky walk away.

Quýnh is waiting for them in the usual place, leaning against the car. When she catches sight of them, she straightens.

Nicky finds himself smiling and walking just a little faster. Quýnh runs towards him and flings her arms around his neck, and he hugs her back just as tightly.

She pulls back, her brow furrowing as she runs her fingers over the bruises on his face. “Nico, you-”

“I know.”

She steps back and opens the car door. “Get in, both of you. We’re going home.”

Both Joe and Nicky get in the back seat. Joe’s eyes half close almost as soon as he sits down, his exhaustion finally taking over.

“Okay?” Nicky asks in Arabic.

Joe reaches over and takes his hand in answer.

They take a roundabout route home, wanting to make sure they aren’t followed. Nicky doesn’t let go of Joe’s hand the whole ride.

* * *

Andy opens the door and immediately folds Nicky into a tight hug.

“Nice to see you too, boss,” Joe says jokingly, a smile spreading across his face. _They’re home._

_Nicky is safe._

Andy rolls her eyes at him as she pulls back. Her eyes scan Nicky’s face, zeroing in on the blood and bruises. Her brow furrows, but Nicky just smiles at her and steps aside to let Joe and Quýnh in.

“You’re back!” Nile calls from the couch, then sits up. “Wait, is that a sword?”

“No, it’s a bow,” Joe deadpans.

“Smartass,” Booker mutters.

Nile gets up and hugs Nicky too. “I’m glad you’re safe. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Nile,” Nicky says softly before stepping back.

“Go get yourself cleaned up,” Andy tells him. “Get the blood off. And _rest_ , Nicky.”

“I’m fine,” he protests. “It’s just-”

“ _Nicky_ ,” Andy says. “I’m not asking. Joe, help him out, would you?”

 _And make sure he actually looks after himself_ , is what she doesn’t say.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Quýnh darts into the kitchen and returns with a bowl of water and a towel. “Here. Take this.”

Joe takes the towel and the bowl. Nicky glances at him with a small smile, then heads for the guest room - unofficially Joe’s room - and Joe follows.

The door clicks shut behind him, cutting off the conversation from the other room, and Nicky visibly relaxes. Joe understands the feeling - he loves his family, but he’s _tired_ , and he can tell Nicky is too.

He crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed, setting the bowl down on the nightstand, and motions for Nicky to sit too.

“You don’t have to do this,” Nicky says quietly as he sits down. “I can handle it.”

Joe gives him a tired smile. “Let me help you, Nico.”

Nicky doesn’t protest further. Joe dips the towel into the water and lifts it to Nicky’s face, gently cleaning away the dried blood. Nicky’s eyes slide shut, and they sit there in silence for a long while.

“I’m sorry,” Joe whispers. 

Nicky’s eyes open. “For what?”

“I should have insisted you stay, or _something_. They went after you - they _hurt_ you because of me. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Joe.” Nicky reaches up to cover Joe’s hand with his own. “This wasn’t your fault. You have nothing to apologise for.”

Joe hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that, but of course Nicky knew. Nicky always knows.

They hold each other’s gaze for a few moments, before Nicky lets his hand drop and Joe continues cleaning away the last traces of blood.

When he’s done, Joe sets aside the towel, but doesn’t get up, resting his hands in his lap instead. He doesn’t meet Nicky’s eyes.

He needs to say something - anything - about what he told Nicky when they were at Merrick’s. Or needs Nicky to say something. Just to free him from the uncertainty.

“Listen, about - about what I said earlier,” Joe begins. He’s stumbling over his words, but he continues anyway, fidgeting. “I don’t want you to feel, um, obligated to anything, or - or like you owe me something, just because I-”

“Joe.” Nicky takes his hand, stopping Joe’s fidgeting. “Look at me.”

Joe does, and Nicky smiles at him, so softly it almost hurts. Nicky doesn’t say anything, just tangles their fingers together and lifts his other hand to trace Joe’s jawline, so gently that Joe almost wonders if he’s imagining it.

“Nicoló,” Joe whispers. They’re only inches apart. “I-”

Nicky kisses him, and Joe forgets everything he was going to say.

Forgets everything, full stop. Except this: Nicky’s hand in his hair, Nicky’s knee bumping against his, their hands still linked in his lap, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky. Nothing else matters but this.

Nicky pulls back, but their foreheads are still pressed together, and Joe doesn’t open his eyes right away.

“There is no obligation,” Nicky whispers. “I love you too.”

Joe opens his eyes then, and there’s a part of him that can’t quite believe this is real, that he’ll wake up any minute.

Nicky smiles, and it’s like the moon on a cloudy night, emerging from behind the clouds to banish the shadows. This time, Joe kisses him, and then Nicky kisses him back, and he can feel Nicky smiling into it and he is too and he feels like he's _f_ _lying_.

Until a knock on the door sends them flying apart, both laughing.

“Food,” Booker announces, then walks away.

“We should go,” Joe says, with absolutely no intention of going anywhere.

Nicky kisses him one more time, then gets up and leaves the room.

Joe stays, blinking at the wall, for a few moments, then follows.

* * *

“So, why the swords?” Nile asks.

Nicky shrugs. “We were in a storage closet.”

“A _storage closet_.”

Booker snorts into his glass. Joe kicks him under the table.

“And Merrick just had swords in this random storage closet.”

“Who are we to question the storage decisions of a rich asshole?” Joe asks, sitting back.

“I believe the phrase is ‘gift horse’,” Nicky says.

“What are you gonna do with them?”

“I don’t know. A question for another time, I guess,” Joe replies. 

“So how’d you get out, anyway?”

“Well…”

* * *

Later, Joe wraps his arms around Nicky the way he did in Cairo, holding him tight, and Nicky leans into it, and Joe might cry.

“I love you,” he whispers again, just because he can. 

He can’t see it, but he can hear the smile in Nicky’s voice when he responds. “I love you too.”

And they fall asleep, happy and warm and _safe_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a little fluff, to make up for all the angst i have inflicted upon you.  
> i'll be honest with you, i struggle with writing kiss scenes and the like, so hopefully this turned out okay. i think it did.  
> happy xmas if you celebrate!  
> next chapter: they're not out of the woods yet


	13. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have to get it back,” Nicky says.
> 
> Joe tilts his head back and groans. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”  
> -  
> Joe and Nicky plan to steal back Pandora's Box.

Joe is alone when he wakes.

Which, in itself, isn’t unusual, because Joe is a very heavy sleeper, and also usually sleeps late. Nicky does not.

It’s been two days since they got out. Andy hadn’t let either of them leave until they were _sure_ it was over, and neither of them had protested. Joe hadn’t minded, anyway. He likes having Nicky with him, likes being surrounded by his family.

Joe gets up and leaves the room.

Andy is sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in her hand, reading over the newspaper with a furrowed brow. The image is so out of place for her that it's extremely difficult for him to resist making a joke about it.

Joe drops into the chair across from her as Nicky appears, silently making his way over to Joe and handing him coffee. Joe is very much in love.

“Thank you,” he says in Arabic. Nicky smiles and doesn’t say anything, but touches Joe’s shoulder gently as he returns to the kitchen.

If Andy notices anything, she doesn’t mention it. But she’s studying the paper so intently Joe would be surprised if she noticed the house was on fire.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being Nicky humming to himself quietly as he cooks.

Then, Andy says, “Merrick’s dead.”

Joe nearly chokes on his coffee. “What?”

She slides the paper across the table to him.

_Steven Merrick and his bodyguard were found dead today by an employee. Circumstances of his death are currently under investigation by the police._

“Shit,” Joe says.

“Yup.”

“What’s going on?” Nicky asks. Joe slides the paper to him wordlessly.

“Pandora's Box,” he says when he’s done reading. “It’s the only explanation.”

“He could have been poisoned,” Joe tries. "Or it's just good old-fashioned murder. He's not exactly a nice guy."

“It can’t be a coincidence. He takes it, he dies two days later.”

“So the curse is real.”

“Or something,” Andy says. “We don’t know for sure.”

“We have to get it back,” Nicky says.

Joe tilts his head back and groans. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

* * *

Joe really, really doesn’t want to do this. But, frustratingly, he doesn’t have many other options. He dials the number and waits.

“Hello?”

“Copley, hi,” Joe says. “It’s Joe.”

“With all due respect, Mr al-Kaysani, I thought you didn’t want to see me again.”

“I don’t, really, but I don’t have much of a choice. I’m sure you heard what happened to Merrick.”

Silence. Then, “Ah.”

“I need to get it back.”

“What makes you think I can help you?”

“When we met, you said you admired my work, right? You know what I do. I’m going to make sure the box can’t hurt anyone else.”

Copley sighs. “Fine. The employee who found them - Kozak - was one of the only other people who knew what Merrick and Keane were going to do. She was tasked with keeping the box safe should something go wrong.”

“What would she do with it?”

“There’s a house, in the country. Where Merrick keeps things he doesn’t want found. If I had to guess, it’d be there.”

“Security?”

“Light. There are only a few who know about it. I myself have only been a few times.”

“You got a floor plan, directions, anything I can go on?”

“Not a plan. But I can tell you where things are. Get a pen and paper, and write this down…”

Copley gives a surprisingly detailed account for someone who claims to have only been there a few times, and Joe gets as much of it down as he can.

“Thank you,” he says when Copley’s done.

“You might want to try checking the filing cabinets. If he kept any of the evidence, it’ll be there.”

“What am I looking for?”

“A or K for al-Kaysani would be my guess. I believe he kept a few of the photos for further insurance purposes.”

“Thank you, Copley,” Joe says. He really does mean it.

“Get the box away from Kozak,” Copley says before hanging up.

* * *

“Okay,” Andy says. “Walk me through it again.”

Quýnh sits beside her, pencil and paper at the ready.

“So the security in the building is light, but there are at least five guards. They rotate every fifteen minutes,” Joe recites, glancing at the scrap of paper he’d scribbled Copley’s instructions on. “The main storage room is in the basement. The back door will be open for a few minutes between guard rounds. From there, we go straight through and there should be a staircase on the left, leading to the basement. The door will be locked, but not alarmed.”

“He doesn’t have alarms? In his secret storage facility?”

“Nobody’s supposed to know about it,” Joe explains. “Or, that’s what Copley said. Besides, Merrick’s an arrogant piece of shit anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just doesn’t think they’re necessary.”

“At least he’s locking the doors,” Nicky points out. “We wouldn’t want it to be too easy.”

“What, you want to break into a high-security place next time? We could always turn to bank robbery.”

“Maybe if I get bored.”

“So the only thing keeping you from attempting to rob a bank is that you’re not bored enough yet.”

Nicky grins. “We’re already technically criminals, habibi.”

“Back on topic, please,” Andy interrupts. “And for the record, we are not robbing a bank.”

Quýnh finishes sketching and slides the paper across the table to Joe. It’s an extremely basic diagram of crosses and circles and arrows, and Joe takes the pencil from her and begins trying to make it vaguely understandable.

“So we’ll wait far enough away that we won’t seem suspicious. You and Nicky make the entry, get in, get out as usual.”

“How are we going to find the box?” Nicky asks.

Joe shrugs. “I guess we’re just going to have to search quickly.”

“The locks?”

“Hopefully pickable. In between guards, we should have enough time.”

“It’ll be tight,” Andy warns.

Nicky glances at him. “We’ll be okay.”

“Copley said they might have the last of the evidence, as well,” Joe says. “So there’s that to look for.”

“Are you _sure_ you’ll have enough time?” Quýnh asks. “If Merrick has a lot in storage, it could take forever.”

“The guards won’t actually enter the room. We’ll just have to be careful about getting back out.”

“You’ll need to be careful. Both of you,” Andy says.

“When are we not?” Joe asks.

Andy ignores him. “We’ll do it tomorrow night.”

* * *

After hours of planning, Joe _finally_ manages to escape to the balcony. Nicky isn’t far behind him. 

“Are you okay to do this?” Nicky asks.

“It’s nothing we can’t handle. Besides, it’s not like we really have a choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Joe looks over at him. Nicky is watching him, concern in his eyes. 

“Hey. I’ll be okay. The poison’s effects are almost entirely gone by now.”

“And your leg?”

“We’ll just have to be careful.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring, Joe.”

“Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt again,” Nicky says.

The sun is setting, painting the western sky in fire. 

“You almost died,” Nicky continues. “And I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t know how much you remember, but you were in so much _pain_.”

Joe doesn’t remember all of it, is the thing. He remembers passing out, and waking up two days later. Other than that, it’s just flashes - half-remembered fragments of too much light and too much pain and Nicky’s voice, whispering something he can’t quite make out.

“I don’t want you to go through anything like that again. Not if I can prevent it.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, amore mio. Neither of us expected it. I just got unlucky.”

Nicky lets out a shaky breath and rests his head on Joe’s shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Always.”

* * *

The benefit of night jobs, in Joe’s opinion, is that unlike early-morning jobs, they don’t require him to be woken at one am. Which is always a bonus. 

The car ride is silent as usual, Andy driving, Joe and Nicky in the back. They park about half a mile away, and Andy kills the engine. Joe and Nicky get out, and she rolls down the window.

“Good luck,” she says. “Watch your backs.”

“We’ll make this quick,” Joe says. Andy rolls up the window and drives away. As usual, she'll check the meeting point every hour or so, not staying to avoid suspicion.

Joe pulls a piece of paper with the address scrawled on it from his pocket. “Should be just along here.”

“You sure?” Nicky teases. “It’s not like you checked nine times on the way here.”

Joe elbows him. “Hey.”

Nicky just laughs.

They walk for a little longer before reaching the house. But they don’t stop: they walk right past it and around the back. The gardens, Joe thinks, are nice, but altogether too big for a house that isn’t even lived in. 

“Back entrance?” Nicky asks in Italian.

“Over there. By the… topiary thing.” Joe squints. He thinks it’s supposed to be some kind of bird, but the dark makes it difficult to tell.

“What is that even supposed to be?”

“A bird, maybe?”

“Penguin,” Nicky says decidedly. 

“Are you sure? I mean, your knowledge of penguins is notoriously flawed-”

Nicky kicks him lightly in the shin. “Focus.”

“You brought it up.”

Nicky rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Ready to finish this?”

Joe thinks he could challenge the whole world as long as he had Nicky by his side. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> joe, multiple times: wow i really hope i don't have to see copley again  
> me, opening google docs: too bad  
> -  
> i am really sorry this chapter took a while! i got really, really stuck on it, but it's done now. it's mostly filler and it's not my best, but here you go! next update will hopefully be quicker!  
> -  
> next chapter: one more heist!


	14. The Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Imagine if after all this time, the box wasn’t here after all,” Joe says, examining the label on one of the crates.
> 
> Nicky groans. “Don’t joke about that, please. I don’t even want to think about it.”  
> -  
> Joe and Nicky go on one more heist.

Joe crouches behind a bush, listening to the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Nicky, beside him, has found a small opening in the leaves, enough to see through. All they can do is listen and wait until the guard passes.

Joe tilts his head up and looks at the stars above them, trying to spot constellations to pass the time. The footsteps recede. Nicky taps him on the shoulder. “It’s time.”

They move quickly, keeping low to the ground, dodging behind bushes where possible, until they make it to the back door. Joe crouches in front of the lock while Nicky turns his back to the door and keeps watch. 

“Three minutes,” Nicky mutters in Italian.

“Yup,” Joe responds, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the lockpicks Andy had given him years ago. He flips open the case and goes to work.

The lock clicks and turns right as Nicky starts to get restless. He doesn’t say anything, but Joe can tell by the shuffling.

“Done,” Joe says, pushing open the door. “Let’s go.”

The inside of the house is dark. Empty, he thinks, but they can’t risk a light. Nicky closes the door behind him, cutting out the little light they have, and Joe places a hand on the left hand wall for guidance. He feels a tug on the back of his jacket and flinches.

“Just me,” Nicky whispers. “I can’t see anything.”

“Well, look on the bright side. Nobody can see us either.”

They move quickly and quietly as always, Joe trailing his hand along the wall, Nicky holding tight to Joe’s jacket. Copley’s instructions echo in Joe’s mind: _Straight ahead and down the staircase on the left_.

The house is seemingly deserted: as if the security is only really on the outside. Not for the first time, Joe’s glad that Merrick is - _was_ \- an arrogant idiot.

The wall turns abruptly, and Joe almost stumbles. Nicky steadies him almost reflexively. 

“Stairs?” Nicky asks.

Joe slides his foot around the corner and feels the step down. “Stairs.”

Going down the stairs in the dark is a challenge. Going down the stairs in the dark, _quietly_ , is even worse. They manage it slowly and carefully, feeling the edge before stepping down, Nicky still holding onto Joe’s jacket.

Then there’s the lock to pick, and it takes Joe a few moments to even get the picks into the lock. He nearly drops them twice. It’s going well.

But then the lock gives, and Joe pushes the door open, sighing with relief.

“That’s the first part done,” Joe says as Nicky closes the door carefully.

Nicky flicks on his flashlight. 

“Well, shit,” Joe mutters.

The basement is much, much bigger than he was expecting. There’s wooden crates stacked everywhere, and filing cabinets everywhere the boxes aren’t. Some of them are labeled, others aren’t. The walls are lined with shelves, bearing even more crates.

“What’s the phrase…” Nicky looks around the room and then switches to English. “Needle in a haystack?”

Joe snorts and turns on his own flashlight. “Let’s get to work.”

* * *

“Imagine if after all this time, the box wasn’t here after all,” Joe says, examining the label on one of the crates.

Nicky groans. “Don’t joke about that, please. I don’t even want to think about it.”

Joe laughs to himself before moving onto the next crate.

They’ve been here for _hours_. And they haven’t found the box. Or any kind of storage system.

“I’ll check the cabinets,” Joe suggests. “We might as well leave with the last of Merrick’s evidence.”

“We’re burning it once this is over,” Nicky says matter-of-factly. 

“I have no objections to that.” Joe straightens from where he’d been crouching, taking a moment to stretch out before crossing to one of the filing cabinets.

“What was the…”

“A or K for al-Kaysani,” Nicky reminds him.

“Thank you.”

They search in companionable silence for a little while longer. Joe flicks through the filing cabinets until he finds a brown paper envelope with _al-Kaysani_ written on it in black. He opens it, and sure enough, it contains copies of the photos he’d seen before. Lifting it above his head victoriously, he turns to Nicky. “Got it.”

Nicky smiles. “Good. Close the drawer, or they’ll suspect something.”

Joe does. “At least the cabinets weren’t locked.”

“Lucky for us, Merrick’s an idiot. Come help me.”

A few moments later, Nicky lifts the jar from one of the crates with a victorious smile. “Got it.”

“I love you,” Joe says with a sigh of relief. _Finally_.

Nicky winks at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

With one last sweep to make sure everything’s more or less as they left it, they leave the basement. 

The way out is slightly easier, now that they know roughly where everything is. The hardest part is judging when is the right time to leave.

Nicky presses his ear to the door.

“Anything?” Joe whispers.

Nicky widens his eyes and touches a finger to his lips. _Quiet._

 _Sorry_ , Joe mouths. 

They wait in breathless silence for a few moments before Nicky nods. “Clear.”

“You sure?”

“Eighty percent?”

“That’ll have to do,” Joe says, and pushes open the door.

Thankfully, there’s nobody outside, and they’re safe to move through the garden, once again keeping low to the ground and moving as quietly as one can on gravel. They make it out without incident, and then they’re out, and they’re done, and it’s _over_. This thing that started when Copley walked into this office, that took them to Egypt, that put them both in danger - it’s over.

Joe wants to laugh out loud. 

They walk at a fairly normal pace as they move away from the house, and Joe is overflowing with energy. 

Nicky slides his hand into Joe’s and smiles at him, and Joe smiles back.

“It’s over,” he says. 

“It’s over,” Nicky repeats, his smile widening. “We’re done.”

He’s flying, he’s flying, he’s _flying_. 

They break into a run when they’re out of sight of the house, and the wind is at their backs and the night is cold but not too cold and they’re together and everything, everything is okay.

“We beat her,” Nicky says, when they arrive at the meeting point and Andy isn’t there. And normally Joe would be vaguely annoyed, because it’s cold and he doesn’t really want to stand in the cold for however long it’ll take her to show up, but he’s finding it difficult to really be annoyed at anything right now. He’s just so _relieved._

Nicky tilts his head back to look at the stars and Joe can’t help staring, because Nicky is beautiful and Joe is hopelessly in love.

“What?” Nicky asks, looking at him.

Joe smiles and kisses him, just because he can.

* * *

“ _Please_ tell me you got it,” Andy says as Joe climbs into the car. 

“Yes, actually. _And_ the last of the evidence,” Joe responds triumphantly, sliding across to make room for Nicky next to him. 

“He still had it?”

“Yep.”

Andy curses. “You got all of it?”

“Everything I could find.”

“And if there’s more?”

“Then there’s nothing we can do about it,” Nicky says. “We got what was there. Besides, unless he instructed someone to tell the police about us, any remaining evidence will not see the light of day.”

Andy sighs. “Fine. Maybe you’re right.”

“Look, we can burn the evidence tomorrow,” Joe says. “Maybe make a bonfire or something. We’ll get rid of it, and then we’ll be out of the woods.”

“If you say so,” Andy says, sounding unconvinced.

Joe lets his head drop onto Nicky’s shoulder and falls asleep.

* * *

“Did you get it?” Nile asks the second Quýnh opens the door.

“Of course. You doubted us?” Joe asks.

“Yes,” Booker says flatly, following her in.

“Okay, firstly, ouch.”

Nile sits down across from him, next to Andy. “So what was it like?”

“Dark. Quiet. Too many boxes.” 

Booker drops into the seat beside Joe. “Your description skills, as always, are mindblowing.”

Joe kicks him under the table as Nicky sits down on his other side.

“We need to decide what we’re going to do next,” Andy says. “We should lie low for a while, until we’re sure all this has blown over.”

“Same as usual?” Nile asks. “Split for a few weeks, reconvene when it’s safe?”

Joe and Nicky glance at each other.

“Actually,” Joe says, shifting in his seat, “I was thinking of leaving.”

“ _What?_ ” Quýnh.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Booker.

“You’re kidding?” Nile.

“Let him explain,” Andy says, then looks at Joe.

“Yeah, uh…” He glances at Nicky again. “I need a break. Not forever, just for a little while.”

“How long?” Quynh asks.

“About a year?”

“A _year_?” Booker and Nile in unison, this time.

“It’s not like I’m disappearing off the face of the earth. I’m just not doing any more jobs for a year.”

“Where are you gonna go?” Nile asks.

Joe shrugs. “I’m not sure yet. Malta, maybe.”

“You have a little time to decide,” Andy says. “You were with us in Cairo, Nile, you might want to consider laying low too.”

Nile nods.

“What are we gonna do with the evidence?” Booker asks.

Joe grins at him. “You wanna set it on fire?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost done! one more chapter, and then the epilogue, and then it's over!  
> (well. mostly. you'll see :) )  
> -  
> next chapter: we've got some evidence to burn!


	15. The Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sparks from the fire climb into the sky, higher, higher, higher until they fade on the wind. Above them, millions of stars.
> 
> And in this moment, everything is right with the world.  
> -  
> Joe, Nicky, Andy, Quynh, Nile and Booker celebrate.

Joe and Nicky are in what he’s come to think of as their room. Joe is sitting on the bed, sketching Nicky, who’s reading with his head resting on a pillow balanced on top of Joe’s feet. It’s comfortably quiet, the only sound in the room their breathing and the conversation from the other room. Nicky’s brow is furrowed slightly and he’s biting his lip, so lost in the book that Joe isn’t sure he even knows he’s doing it.

“What are you drawing?” Nicky asks after a while.

Joe flips his sketchbook around to show him, and Nicky tilts his head to look, his expression breaking into a smile as he looks at it.

“You’re cute when you’re focusing,” Joe says, by way of explanation. Nicky flicks his knee in response, and Joe laughs and sets aside his sketchbook. “You know, I never actually asked. About Malta, that is. If you still wanted to come.”

Nicky sets his book down - face down, to keep his place - and sits up. “You still want me to go with you?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.”

Nicky shifts so he’s sitting alongside Joe but still facing him. “I would love to.”

Joe lets out a relieved breath and smiles. “Good.”

* * *

The bonfire is a tradition they’ve had ever since Joe started doing this, and one that’s held for years. After every job is concluded, they make a big fire in Andy and Quýnh’s yard and celebrate. At the beginning, it was just Andy and Quýnh and Lykon. Then Joe had arrived. Then Booker. Then Lykon had left, but they’d gained Nile. And finally, Nicky, sliding into place in their family perfectly as if he’d always been there. 

They’d spent the whole day building the thing, and now they’re ready to light it. Quýnh, ever since the first one, had insisted on using a flaming arrow to light the fire, another tradition they’d kept. She takes her place at the end of the yard, and Andy lights the arrow.

Quýnh lifts the bow and fires. She’d only missed once. That had been an eventful day.

The arrow flies in a perfect arc, flames trailing through the air, and lands in the kindling. It catches alight, and all six of them cheer as the fire grows. 

There’s a scraping as everyone moves the chairs to sit around the fire: Andy and Quýnh and Booker and Nile on separate chairs, Joe and Nicky together on the bench, as always. Quýnh passes around the champagne (well, lemonade if you’re Joe), and they all raise their glasses.

“To you two, for somehow managing to survive that,” Booker says, looking pointedly at Joe and Nicky.

“To Merrick, for having a convenient box of swords,” Nile adds. 

“To Nico, for keeping Joe from making stupid mistakes.” Quýnh.

“To Lykon, for helping save Joe’s _life._ ” Andy.

“To Copley, for helping in the end, despite being the reason we got into this mess.” Nicky.

“And to the people who built that stupid temple, for putting non-lethal poison on their arrows so I didn't die after all,” Joe finishes, making Nicky laugh.

They all drink. The sky is grey-blue, the way it is when the sun has just gone down but the light hasn’t gone yet. It’s not too cold, and the fire keeps them warm anyway.

“Alright, we’ve got evidence to burn,” Quýnh says, reaching for the envelope they’d collected all the photos in. “Everyone take a stack.”

They pass the envelope around the fire, each taking a stack of photos. Joe shuffles through his after passing the envelope to Booker.

“Hey, look.” He nudges Nicky and shows him the photo.

It’s them, at the museum they’d been at the job before Copley showed up in Joe’s office. Apparently mid-argument: Nicky’s got one hand on his hip, the other in mid-air, while Joe’s just smiling at him. 

“Penguins?” Joe asks.

“Penguins,” Nicky confirms with a smile.

It’s a good photo. He’s almost sad to burn it.

One by one, the pictures are fed to the flames, curling and burning away. And with them, Joe’s fear.

“Begone,” Quýnh declares, scattering a whole stack into the fire. The flames crackle as they catch. 

“Wait, someone pass me a pen,” Booker says.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Nile asks, handing one over.

“You’ll see,” Booker responds, spreading one of the pictures out on his thigh and drawing on it with the pen. Nile watches as he does so, and Joe is almost worried.

Booker holds up the finished product a few moments later. He’s given Joe a handlebar moustache and round glasses.

Nicky snorts, and Joe kicks him lightly. “Traitor. Hey, Nile, pass me the pen.”

* * *

They are all a little drunk.

Well, Joe isn’t, but everyone else is. Andy and Quýnh and Booker more so than Nile, who’s just slightly tipsy. Quýnh had moved onto Andy’s lap about two hours ago, as usual.

And Nicky? Nicky is far more drunk that he’ll admit, but Joe knows him well enough to tell. He’s curled into Joe’s side, head resting on Joe’s chest, affectionate in a way he wouldn’t be in front of the others if he was sober.

Not that Joe minds.

“Wait.” Booker blinks at him. “Are you two _together_ together now?”

Joe bursts out laughing. 

“It took you this long to figure it out?” Nile asks incredulously.

“Oh, we all know Book isn’t that observant,” Andy says.

Booker throws a balled up piece of paper at her.

“You owe me twenty,” Joe says to Nicky.

Nicky groans, but hands Joe the money anyway. Joe tucks it in his pocket with a victorious smile.

It had been funny, waiting to see how long it took for the others to realise. Quýnh had taken one look at them and winked at Nicky. Andy had worked it out the day after. Nile had gotten it a few days after that. Booker hadn’t figured it out at all, and he and Nicky had bet on how long it would take. 

“Wait!” Nicky exclaims, sitting up. “I forgot something.”

Before Joe can ask, Nicky’s on his feet and running inside. He reappears a few moments later clutching a brown paper file with MERRICK printed on the front in black letters.

“Die,” Nicky declares before tossing the thing into the fire.

“That is a lot of malice towards one file,” Joe comments as Nicky sits back down. 

“Do you have _any idea_ how many times I read that thing? The _whole plane flight_ , Joe-”

He’s waving his hands as he talks, and Joe can’t help laughing.

“Oh, it’s funny for _you_ , Mr-I-can-sleep-anywhere, some of us _can’t_ sleep on planes, and have nothing else to do-”

“Well, your archenemy has been defeated,” Joe says. 

Nicky stops speaking and tilts his head. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

Joe raises both hands in surrender. “I’m not!”

“Yes, you are,” Nile interjects.

“You are,” Booker agrees.

“Thank you both for your very helpful contributions,” Joe says.

Nile presses a hand to her heart. “It’s because we love you.”

Nicky settles back into his previous position at Joe’s side as Joe finds a photo they’d missed, scrunches it into a ball, and throws it at Booker’s head.

“No throwing paper around the fire,” Quýnh says. “We know how that turned out last time.”

“No, we don’t,” Nile says. “What happened last time?”

“Well, we were celebrating after a job...”

Joe tilts his head back as Quýnh begins to tell the story. The sparks from the fire climb into the sky, higher, higher, higher until they fade on the wind. Above them, millions of stars.

And in this moment, everything is right with the world.

* * *

Around two or three am, they all start heading inside. 

Quýnh first, closely followed by Andy, who tells them not to burn the house down before going in. Then Nile, and Booker soon after. 

Joe is the one who puts out the fire, while Nicky watches, blinking sleepily. 

“You wanna go back inside?” Joe asks, sitting back down.

Nicky closes his eyes. “Not yet. It’s nice out here.”

They stay in silence for a little while, and Joe wonders if Nicky's fallen asleep.

“We have to take it back,” Nicky says. Not asleep then.

“The jar?”

“Si.” He shifts slightly. “It’s the only thing we can do with it. It's not ours, it needs to go back where it belongs. They put it there for a reason.”

“Well, Lykon did want us to go back.”

Nicky laughs softly. “He’ll be mad it’s on business again.”

“We’ll take Quýnh. She wanted to see him anyway.”

“So we go to Cairo.” Nicky tilts his head to look up at him. “Then Malta?”

“Then Malta,” Joe confirms.

Nicky closes his eyes again, and Joe shakes him gently to keep him from falling asleep. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

“It’s nice out here.”

“And you’re barely awake. Come on, amore mio, I don’t want to have to carry you inside.”

“Fine,” Nicky concedes, reluctantly. Joe stands up, then pulls Nicky to his feet. Nicky stumbles, and Joe only just manages to catch him.

“Think I mighta had a little too much,” Nicky says, leaning heavily on Joe.

“I think so too.”

“Only a little.” Nicky holds his thumb and forefinger close together. “Tiny, tiny.”

“If you say so.”

They make their way inside. Nicky trips over the doorframe, giggling, and Joe catches his arm before he falls.

“Try to be quiet, habibi, the others are sleeping.”

“Mm. I can be quiet.”

“Good.”

He is… mostly. There’s a little more stumbling, and a little more giggling, and a lot more whispering that isn’t really whispering at all. He’s _definitely_ more drunk than he’ll admit. But theymake it to their room without any major incidents, so Joe counts that as a victory.

Nicky collapses into the bed almost immediately, his eyes already drifting closed. 

“Are you staying?” he asks Joe sleepily.

“Of course,” Joe responds.

“Good.” Nicky opens his eyes halfway and watches as Joe walks around to the other side of the bed and gets in behind him. 

Joe wraps his arms around Nicky the way they’ve both grown accustomed to, and Nicky leans back into it with a contented sigh. “You’re warm.”

Joe laughs softly. “Go to sleep, Nico.”

“I love you,” Nicky whispers before drifting off.

Joe smiles to himself. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nicky finally got to burn that file!  
> we're not done just yet! there's still the epilogue to go!  
> and because i couldn't let this au go just yet, i'm gonna do a prequel! or, a collection of scenes that happen in the two years between the prologue and chapter one. so the epilogue's going to be delayed for a bit, because i want to get that and the first chapter of the prequel up at the same time.  
> next chapter: cairo, malta, and the final resolution of the penguin debate!


	16. Epilogue - The Penguins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is it just me, or does it feel like the temple is trying to kill us less than it was last time?” Joe asks.  
> -  
> In which Pandora's Box is returned to its rightful place, Joe and Nicky take a (well deserved) break, and the penguin debate is finally resolved.

_ Three days later _

When Nicky gets home, Joe is already there, sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, sketching. His eyes light up when Nicky walks in. “You’re back early.”

“Did Andy get the plane tickets?”

“Yup. We leave for Cairo in two days.”

“That was fast.”

“Andy works fast.”

Nicky shrugs off his jacket and walks over to sit down on the couch beside Joe. Immediately, Joe shifts, so he’s sitting with his back against the armrest and his legs across Nicky’s lap. Nicky gives him an exasperated but fond look, and reaches for his book.

They sit there in silence for a while before Joe closes his sketchbook and sets it down on his lap. “So, I was in the library today.”

“Oh?” Nicky doesn’t look up from his book.

“I’m sure you remember the penguins, right?”

“No, I’d forgotten,” Nicky says flatly, still not looking up.

Joe reaches over to grab a pillow and throws it at his head. Nicky yelps and ducks, but the pillow still hits him, to Joe’s amusement. 

“Attacked in my own home,” Nicky mutters,  _ finally _ setting aside his book. “What is the world coming to?”

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Joe says, “I found out something interesting.”

“Which was…”

“Did you know that arctic means  _ bears here _ and antarctic means  _ no bears here _ ?”

“No,” Nicky admits.

“Which means,” Joe says victoriously, a grin already spreading across his face, “the penguins are in the  _ Antarctic,  _ not the Arctic, and I was right the whole time.”

Nicky tilts his head back and groans, covering his face with both hands as Joe laughs so hard it hurts. 

“I should have known that,” he mutters, voice muffled slightly. 

“Aw, it’s okay. You can’t be right all the time.”

Nicky grabs the pillow Joe had thrown earlier and throws it at Joe. It hits him directly in the face. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, Nico.”

* * *

_ One week later _

“Well, at least we know where the entrance is this time,” Joe says.

Nicky rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway. “And we know where all the dangerous parts are.”

They’d come prepared this time: particularly, they’d brought a wooden plank to bridge the spike pit, because Nicky did  _ not _ want to swing over it again. He’d done it once already and once was enough. 

Joe kicks the rock and waits. Absolutely nothing happens.

“Wrong rock,” Nile says, and kicks the right one. The ground begins to shake. Andy tugs Quynh’s arm to pull her back from the gap as the entrance to the temple opens up again. 

“Sure you don’t wanna come?” Joe asks the group in general. “It’s not bad, as far as temples go.”

“We’re good here,” Andy says. “Try not to get shot again.”

“I’ll be careful, I’ll be careful,” Joe mutters. “It was  _ one time _ .”

“One time is too many. Now get going, I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.”

“You’re the boss.” He looks at Nicky, then nods towards the entrance. “After you.”

“Don’t take too long,” Andy says as they descend the stairs into darkness.

* * *

“Is it just me, or does it feel like the temple is trying to kill us less than it was last time?” Joe asks.

“I don’t think it was ever  _ actively _ trying to kill us,” Nicky points out. “The building, itself, cannot be malicious.”

“I mean, we don’t  _ know  _ that. Maybe this specific building just really hates us.”

“Maybe it just doesn’t like  _ you _ .”

“What did I do to deserve such treatment? Stop here.”

Nicky holds his torch up, only just illuminating the other side of the gap. “Are you sure the plank is long enough?”

“About… eighty percent?”

“Reassuring,” Nicky mutters. 

“Only one way to find out, right?”

“Right.” Nicky sets the board down. “How are we going to do this?”

“Just… push it across, I guess. Try not to let it fall in the spike pit?”

“Easier said than done. Move the torch closer to the edge, if you can, I can’t see.”

Joe holds his arm out over the gap, so the light reaches a little further. 

Nicky slowly slides the plank across the gap until the other end is resting on the far side of the gap. Carefully, he lets go, and the plank doesn’t fall. He lets out a relieved sigh.

“Nice,” Joe says. “Now for the hard part.”

Nicky only slightly prefers this method of crossing the gap to the swinging.

The plank is close to the wall, so he can place a hand on that for support, but he still crosses slowly and steadily. Joe goes first, and waits for Nicky on the other side, holding up the torch so he can see the plank beneath his feet.

“Almost there,” Joe encourages. He holds out his hand. Nicky takes it and stumbles across to the other side.

“I’ll be glad when we’re done with this,” Nicky says.

Joe swings their joined hands between them. “So will I.”

* * *

“What are the odds that putting this back here sets off another round of traps?” 

Nicky considers. “Low. They wanted to stop people taking it, not to stop them putting it back.”

“See, now that you’ve said that, there’s going to be another round of traps,” Joe says.

“Only one way to find out. Pass me the torch?”

Joe hands him the torch and steps towards the pedestal, reaching into his satchel for the jar. 

“Ready?” he asks.

Nicky nods.

Joe sets down the jar.

The ground begins to tremble for the second time that day, and Joe grabs for Nicky’s arm to steady himself.

“I really, really hope that wasn’t more traps,” Joe says once the shaking stops.

“Let’s get out of here,” Nicky responds, holding out his hand. Joe takes it.

At the first line of spikes, they stop. Nicky reaches for a small pebble on the floor and tosses it. Both of them, unconsciously, hold their breath.

And nothing happens.

Warily, Joe holds his hand out, and still nothing happens. “You think they all deactivated?”

“That would seem to be the case,” Nicky says. 

They still get out of there as fast as they can.

* * *

_ One month later _

Nicky wakes to the early morning rays of sunlight shining through the gaps in the curtains and directly into his eyes. Because Joe had forgotten to close them properly. Again.

But when Nicky tries to get up, Joe makes an annoyed noise and tightens his arms around him. 

Nicky smiles to himself. “You’re going to have to let me get up eventually,” he says.

“Mm. No.”

“Why not?”

“Warm.”

Nicky laughs at that. “Please?”

“...Fine.”

“Thank you,” Nicky says, untangling himself from Joe’s arms and getting out of bed. Before he leaves the room, he looks back at Joe, who’s already fallen back asleep, and smiles.

Nicky revels in the early-morning stillness as he moves through the house. They’ve been in Malta for about three weeks now, and if there’s one thing Nicky loves about this place, it’s the peace. And the sea. And the bakery across the street.

So maybe there’s a lot of things Nicky loves about this place. 

He makes himself coffee and settles on the couch with his book, and enjoys being able to just  _ breathe _ , after all the chaos they’ve been through.

After a few minutes, the bedroom door opens, and Joe shuffles out.

“Morning,” Nicky says over his shoulder.

Joe mumbles something that might be a response and crosses the room to lie down on the couch beside him, his head resting in Nicky’s lap, and goes right back to sleep. Nicky goes back to reading, running his fingers absentmindedly through Joe’s curls.

Almost two hours later, Joe shifts and blinks awake.

“Finally,” Nicky teases, setting aside his book.

Joe rolls over onto his back to look up at him. “Morning. What time is it?”

Nicky glances at the clock. “About 10am.”

“Already?”

“You were sleeping for a while.”

“You could have woken me.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know that’s a losing battle, hayati.” 

Joe flicks him on the arm. “Hey.”

“Come on, get up. We were going out today, remember?”

“Five more minutes?”

“You’ve been asleep for hours. My leg’s fallen asleep.”

“Please?”

Joe yelps as Nicky pushes him off the couch, laughing.

* * *

“I think this is one of the first  times I’ve actually been to a museum,” Joe says, looking around the room.

There’s not many people in the museum at this time of day, and they’re the only people in this particular room. The cool air inside is a nice change from the heat of the afternoon.

“Are you serious?” Nicky asks. “Half your time is spent in them.”

“I meant without eventually planning to steal something,” Joe clarifies.

“That makes slightly more sense.” Nicky glances around out of habit, hoping nobody had heard their slightly incriminating conversation. “But we’re on holiday, remember?”

“You never let me have any fun.”

“I would prefer to avoid getting arrested,” Nicky says. 

“Alright, that’s fair.”

They leave a few hours later, stepping out into the sun. The afternoon is drowsy and warm and slow, and they have nowhere to be but right where they are as they walk side by side down the street.

“You know,” Joe says, “none of this would have happened if you’d slept at home instead of in your office like a normal person.”

“Or if I had just called security, instead of going to investigate myself.”

Joe reaches for his hand and tangles their fingers together, smiling at him. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Nicky smiles back. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're done!!  
> this fic was my first multichapter fic ever and it's been so much fun to write!! i hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! thank you all so much for the comments and kudos, they never fail to make me smile!  
> the first part of the prequel, a series of questionable decisions, will be up soon!  
> thank you for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> i'm demonicneonfishy on tumblr too if you wanna come say hi!


End file.
